


In My Dreams

by AceDetective



Series: A Fanciful Dream [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Deceit and Emile are dead but have a minor presence in the fic, Deceit is called Dorian here, Fantasy AU, Letters, M/M, Magic AU, Might actually get together this time so hold onto your seats!, Pining, Prinxiety - Freeform, prince AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceDetective/pseuds/AceDetective
Summary: With the threat of the Dragon Witch gone, the two princes have gone their separate ways. One, remaining in Sandres to prepare to assume the throne, and the other, off to rediscover the life the Witch tore him from.Alone in a land familiar yet unknown to him, Virgil struggles to piece together the life he once knew and stifle the growing ache in his heart as he remembers life in Sandres.Deceit is named Dorian here because the first fic was written before his name reveal.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Prinxiety, minor Logicality - Relationship
Series: A Fanciful Dream [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1470740
Comments: 29
Kudos: 78
Collections: Storytime! 2020





	1. Chapter One

Virgil didn’t know what to expect as they approached the castle. In his mind, he had pictured ruins from the day the Dragon Witch attacked their family. He wasn’t sure why he was expecting that. Logan would have repaired it while he was Regent. It wasn’t exactly something Logan could wait to do until Remy was crowned.

He stared at the window of the carriage at his forgotten childhood home, watching it grow closer and closer. The castle stood proud, whole and without a trace of the disastrous day that stole Virgil and his fathers away from Remy. 

The Picais Castle was different from the castle he grew up in. It was tall with multiple towers shooting up like sprouts out of the ground whereas King Thomas’ castle was broader with less levels, focusing on the expansion of existing floors. 

“Like it?” Remy asked quietly.

Virgil nodded.

Remy smiled, “I sent word ahead of us, so your room should be ready.”

The carriage passed through the castle’s gates and Virgil shifted in his seat. He was finally arriving at the home he lost. Behind the carriage, the castle gates clanged shut and Virgil glanced back. 

“The gates are a security measure I added while Regent,” Logan explained. “With only Remington left of the royal family, I did not see it wise to take chances with his safety.”

“So you do care about me,” Remy teased.

Logan sighed at the young king’s antics. The carriage stopped outside the carriage and Logan opened the door. Virgil watched curiously as the older man surveyed the area. There were some servants and knights in the courtyard, waiting to welcome the royals home, but other than that, Virgil couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Logan must have agreed because he turned and held out his hand to Remy to help him down from the carriage.

Remy took his hand and stepped down from the carriage with practiced grace. Virgil craned his neck to see his brother smiling at their home. When Logan let go of Remy’s hand, he extended it again to offer it to Virgil. The adviser smiled reassuringly and waited for Virgil to be ready. 

Remy grinned as he looked back to Virgil as well, blue eyes bright with joy and anticipation. Virgil met his eyes and tried to smile back, knowing everyone waiting for them expected him to perfectly step into the prince role.

Virgil took Logan’s hand and stepped down carefully from the carriage, trying to ignore the sudden excited murmurs in the courtyard. 

“May I introduce my little brother, Prince Virgil of Picais,” Remy said proudly.

Virgil squirmed but tried to stand up tall as his brother spoke, hoping that it would be over sooner if he did that. He could feel the eyes on him, even as he focused on Remy.

“To celebrate his return to us, there will be a feast tomorrow,” Remy announced. “For my brother to meet the court and welcome him home.”

Virgil’s eyes widened at that. He wasn’t expecting to meet their court so soon, did he even have something nice enough to wear as an honored guest at a feast?

“You are all dismissed to go about your daily activities, thank you,” Remy finished.

Virgil approached his brother quietly, standing by his side as the servants and knights dismissed themselves. Remy smiled at him and took his hand.

“Are you sure I can do this?” Virgil asked. 

Remy nodded, “I think so. I had an outfit prepared for you … and something special waiting in my office.”

Virgil gave him a skeptical look, but Remy dragged him towards the castle instead of giving him an explanation. They entered the castle together and Virgil tried to take it all in before Remy dragged him further inside.

“Where’re we going?” Virgil asked.

“My office! It was Dad’s, we used to play in there all the time while he and Baba tried to work. We never let them get anything done!”

Virgil thought back to his childhood in Sandres and all the times he saw Roman escorted away from King Thomas’ office. Their fathers didn’t do the same it seemed…. He knew it got better when he arrived at the castle and befriended Roman as a child, but it didn’t entirely go away until Roman was nearly a teen.

“They let us do that?”

Remy stopped in front of the office doors, “Of course! They always made time for us. Ready?”

Virgil nodded and Remy opened the door. In the office, there were two dark oak desks. One empty and one neatly organized with papers and inks and quills.

“I saved Baba’s desk,” Remy says. “I wasn’t ready to part with it and decided it matched Dad’s, so I could save it for my own partner one day.”

Virgil looked around the office. Behind Remy’s desk there was a portrait that Virgil couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of. Remy noticed him looking and smiled.

“I didn’t have time after my coronation to have my portrait done before I left for the treaty with King Thomas. Dad had his portrait redone to add the family each time it grew. With Baba, me, and then you.”

In the portrait, King Emile sat on his throne with a young Remy in his lap, smiling as he looked forward. Beside him stood King Dorian holding a small purple bundle in his arms, Virgil could just see the tiny tufts of dark hair sticking out from the bundle.

“Dad loved this portrait. He refused to redo it when we got older. You were … I don’t actually know how old you are here. You were a baby,” Remy explained. “I think I was mad about you being there at first, so tiny and loud… I’m glad you’re here now.”

Virgil believed him. Remy didn’t need to prove he cared for Virgil to understand he did. Almost every action Remy has made since he arrived in Sandres proved how much he cared for his family. Virgil didn’t need to be convinced any further.

“I’m glad too,” he said finally.

Remy smiled and went over to his desk. Beside the pile of papers was a wooden box, which Remy picked up with care.

“I had this polished for you. It was Dad’s when he was Crown Prince.”

Remy set the box back down and opened it with care. He reached into the box and took out a crown. 

“It would mean a lot to me if you wore this, not all the time, I don’t even do that. But at least to events? And around the court?” Remy asks.

Virgil nodded, wide eyes on the crown, “Of course.”

“Can I… put it on your head here?” Remy asked with a strained voice. “I thought you’d want to be crowned privately. Just us.”

Virgil looked away from the crown and to Remy’s face. The King was blinking away tears while he waited for Virgil’s response.

“I’d like that too. Thank you, Remy.” 

Remy smiled and blinked away the last of his tears. He gestured for Virgil to come forward and Virgil stepped towards him and the desk.

“Virgilius, son of King Emile and King Dorian, brother to King Remington. Do you accept this crown and the burdens that come with it?”

“I do?” Virgil replied, unsure of what he should be saying.

Remy gave him a small nod, “Now, kneel so that I may place the crown onto your head.”

Virgil knelt before his brother and tilted his head down to allow Remy to reach. He felt the metal crown gently press down onto the top of his head and looked up when the movement stopped. Remy offered his hand and helped Virgil to his feet. The King smiled softly at him.

“It suits you,” Remy said quietly. “Our Dads would be very proud to see you here.”

“They would?” Virgil asked.

Part of him wondered what the two would think of him now and how he’d changed. He was no longer the little boy they raised. His magic…. He hadn’t used it since the fight with the Dragon Witch. He wasn’t denying who he was, but he didn’t know what to do with it and lacked guidance on how to use it properly. He got lucky he saw King Thomas and was able to push the Dragon Witch towards him. 

However now that he was in Picais, he could search for answers. King Dorian had to have something that survived the Dragon Witch’s first attack. Something that could tell him what to do with his new abilities.

“They would,” Remy confirmed. “Do you want help finding your room? I haven’t seen it yet either and I want to make sure it’s good enough for my brother.”

“I’m sure they did fine,” Virgil told him.

Remy raised an eyebrow, “They’d better have. You deserve the best welcoming home.”

Remy picked up the box for the crown and led Virgil out of the office. They walked down the halls keeping a brisk pace, Remy eager to examine the room to ensure it was to Virgil’s liking. Virgil didn’t think he’d hate what he would find. After growing up in the servants’ quarters, the guest room in King Thomas’ castle was good enough and that was without anything that made the room feel like a home. The room here would eventually fill with those items and be meant for a Prince. If anything, Virgil would think it was too big. 

As they walked, Remy pointed out different rooms in the castle; guest suites, the library, corridors, and finally, Remy’s room and his own. The door to his room was dark wood with a bronze handle. Remy opened the door and poked his head in first.

“So it’s not a mess. I doubted it would be, but I wasn’t here to oversee it. Want to step in?”

Virgil nodded and stepped around Remy to see his room. His eyes widened at the size of the room. The bed was large and draped in purple blankets. The flooring underneath the bed was a grey carpet that matched the curtains on the windows. As he looked around, he noticed the large wardrobe in the corner and the matching dresser beside it. He wondered if Remy had it filled for him already.

“So purple. A good choice?” Remy asked.

Virgil smiled, “It was…. Was it always my favorite?”

Remy snorted back a laugh, “Virgil. Your purple baby blanket ripped, Baba bought you a blue one to replace it and you threw the biggest tantrum.”

Virgil blushed at that, “I didn’t.”

“You did. I was surprised it didn’t catch fire with how hard you were glaring at it.”

Virgil furrowed his eyebrows, “I thought I didn’t show any signs of magic?”

“Not very many. Just the spiders, but you hated that blanket. Baba had to patch your old one.”

Virgil was glad he didn’t have that specific memory though…. As young as he was when it happened, he likely wouldn’t remember it regardless. He had the feeling Remy would tell him more stories as their time in the castle went on. 

“You should be getting to bed,” Remy told him. “I’ve got a party to plan. Good night, Vee.”


	2. Chapter Two

Virgil fidgeted uncomfortably in his spot at the main table next to Remy. Even once the court was seated, he could feel the eyes on him. When he looked out of the other tables, he could never see who was staring, but he knew they were. He was sure it would be worse if he caught someone staring at him.

The crown felt heavy on his head as he looked around again. Logan had advised him the weight would be unnoticeable once he wore the crown enough, but combined with the feeling of being watched, it felt heavy and very uncomfortable.

“Not hungry?”

Virgil looked over to Remy and shrugged, “It’s weird being on this side of things.”

“Nothing to do with lords that keep looking at you?” Remy asked. “I got that too, the first time we had an event at the castle after the attack.”

Virgil frowned at him and made a point to move around some of the food on his plate around with his fork, just to make it look like he had eaten. He could still feel the eyes on him and that helped nothing.

“Why did they stare then?” he asked quietly.

Remy shrugged, “To see the poor little orphan playing prince.”

Virgil wrinkled his nose and set down his fork. He glanced around the feast hall once more. Nothing had changed. Lords and Ladies still chattered at each other as servants bustled around as Virgil had every time there was a feast in Sandres.

“Did they not like you?”

Remy scoffed, “No, they just wanted to feel some pity. Got it out of their systems real fast. Now, eat up.”

Virgil turned back to his plate and tried to eat a bit. He still pushed things around before settling on the roast beef. He picked up a juicy piece with his fork and bit into it. It was good, but he preferred how his Dad made it. He hoped he was okay without Virgil there to help him in Sandres. Virgil would have to write to him soon and try to figure out how long he should wait before he made a visit.

He kept eating quietly until his plate was mostly cleared. As he ate, he listened to Remy and Logan’s discussion of their trip to Sandres and what steps would be needed next. Remy suggested that they could arrange trade between the kingdoms to foster the relationship and Logan smiled proudly.

“We could write to King Thomas to make arrangements tomorrow,” Logan said. “What do you think, Virgil?”

Virgil startled at the mention of his name, “Um, it sounds like a good idea? What do we have to trade?”

Logan smiled approvingly, “We have our fabrics and fruits. Meat from the northern border and salt from the east and south.”

“Salt?” Virgil asked.

“From our lands bordered by the ocean,” Logan explained. “I can show you a map after the feast, though I often find myself pulled into the dances following dinner.”

“That’s because you’re still not married,” Remy teased.

Logan raised an eyebrow, “As are you, due to my refusal to allow for an arrangement for your hand as your regent.”

Remy shivered at the mention. Virgil watched curiously, pondering what Picais was like under Logan’s reign as Regent.

“I would never marry someone so tasteless,” Remy commented. “She didn’t know matean from silk.”

Virgil tuned out the rest of the conversation as the conversation dissolved into gentle teasing. Before he knew it, the plates were being cleared from the table and the court began to stand from their seats to move to the ballroom. Remy tapped Virgil’s shoulder and offered his hand to guide him out of the feast hall.

“If you need to get away, go to the library. No one usually goes there during our feasts,” Logan advised. “I have gone there a few times to hide myself.”

Virgil smiled, “Thank you.”

Virgil made sure to think of where he knew the library was from the brief tour the night before. It sounded like the perfect place to escape to. Virgil took Remy’s offered hand and followed his brother to the ballroom.

Remy smiled at him, “Do try to mingle for a while before you run off to the library, alright?”

Virgil rolled his eyes at his brother as Remy let go of his hand.

“What makes you so sure I will?” he asked.

“Brotherly intuition,” Remy answered.

Virgil snorted, “Yeah right.”

Virgil looked around the ballroom as his brother walked away. There wasn’t a single face he recognized beside Remy’s and Logan’s. He wasn’t surprised by the lack of familiarity, but would need to grow used to the idea of it being expected.

He went about the room, ducking his head with care not to lose the crown. He had never experienced a feast where  _ he  _ was being served instead of being serving others, but perhaps it would not be hard to cruise through the night near the wall, talking to the servants.

Was he avoiding his court? Yes, but he would also like to know those that were serving him and his brother. They were just as important as the court members, Virgil knew a castle couldn’t function without its servants from experience.

“Prince Virgilius!” a voice exclaimed excitedly. “I’ve been hoping to catch you all night!”

Virgil flinched at the outburst and turned to face the person who called his name. Before him stood a heavy set man in bright green. The man bowed to him and smiled.

“Hello?”

Virgil wasn’t sure how he was to acknowledge this. He had seen Roman dance around the ballroom and talk with nobles frequently, yet the mannerisms fled his mind as he looked at this man.

“I am Sir Gary Ashdown, your Highness, I worked with your Father, the late King Dorian,” he explained. “It is an honor to meet you and see you returned to us alive and well.”

“Thank you,” Virgil said, fidgeting.

“That’s all I wanted to say, your Highness. I look forward to seeing what kind of leader you’ll become.”

With that Sir Gary turned and disappeared into the crowd of nobles.

Virgil wasn’t sure what to make of that conversation, but guessed the rest of the night would be full of them if he stayed in the ballroom. Quietly, he made his way to the hallway, sticking close to the servants as he walked, knowing most nobles ignored them unless they needed something during a feast.

Virgil walked down the halls, trying to find the doors he knew lead to the library. The main floor was much smaller than the one in Sandres’ castle. If anything, this would make the search much easier on him.

He kept walking around until he found the door Remy had shown him the night before. He opened the door and the candles around the room all flickered to life. He jumped back and looked around for someone who could have done so.

“Hello, Prince Virgilius.”

Virgil yelped and back to the door again.

“Sorry, sorry,” an older woman stepped out from the shelves. “I am Mavis, I am the caretaker of the library. My eyesight is not very good so I do not use the lighting system, but when I heard you, I started it.”

“Light system?” he asked.

Mavis smiled sweetly, “Your father created it with his magic. He was a talented fellow.”

Virgil looked around at the candles, “They’re magic?”

“They are. He created them when he grew frustrated from trying to carry books and his candle around at night. Too stubborn to ask for help,” Mavis smiled. “Solved his issue quickly.”

Virgil nodded, “It seems.”

He glanced around the library. Wondering if he could find anything from King Dorian’s life or study within the library.

“Shouldn’t you be at the feast, my prince?”

Virgil awkwardly shrugged, “I just… got overwhelmed. I wanted some quiet. Can I look around?”

“Of course! This is your castle, dear,” she reminded.

Virgil smiled and walked into the array of shelving to see what he could find. Many of the texts were unfamiliar to him. He picked a book off the shelf and examined the cover. The cover had an intricate design of flowers and vines surrounding the title, “Guide to Herbology and Medicine”.

Virgil opened the book curiously and flipped through a few pages. The pages were old and worn, clearly studied meticulously. As he turned the pages, a leaf fell from between the pages. Virgil knelt down to pick it up and place it back into the book.

Kneeling on the floor, he reached for the leaf and took it into his hand, something sticking out from under the shelf catching his eye. He grabbed the item as well and stood up. He put the leaf back into its book and replaced the book on the shelf. Virgil then examined the item.

It was a leather bound book with pieces of paper sticking out from pages. Virgil walked over to a table with the book and sat down, before wiping the thick layer of dust off of the book and untying the string around the book. He opened to the first page, curious yet not expecting anything from the plain covered book.

On the first page of the book was written Dorian Picani in a neat script. Virgil’s eyes widened and put his finger on the page to trace along the name. He wondered what one of his fathers’ books was doing under a library shelf…. He could ask Remy…. After he’d gotten the chance to look through the book himself.

He flipped to the next page and began to read.

_ I haven’t spoken to Emile about the possibility of Virgilius’ developments becoming permanent yet, hoping that it is residual magic from being carried by a magic user, as Remy’s were. If the developments continue and do not disappear, I will need to tell my husband before something happens. I haven’t noticed anything permanent yet. _

_ Details of developments: _

  1. _Speaking to spiders in the castle:_



_This could be due to developing magic in my son, or this may be antics of a toddler. I will be watching for these interactions as he grows older._

  1. _Levitation:_



_Levitating objects that he wants, such as his bottle or his stuffed animal. The heaviest thing he has lifted is a large story book so that I could read from it for a bedtime story. This is undoubtedly a sign of magic._

_ Similar instances to these occurred when Remington was still toddler, but he grew out of them by age two. Virgilius is approaching his third birthday without a cease of magical activities. As the day grows closer, I will continue monitoring my son. The traditional test for magic is still years away but if these instances do not cease prior to Virgilius reaching ten years of age, it will merely be a formality. _

Virgil’s eyes widened as he read on, reading his father’s words about him and his magical development. The King seemed anxious about something the more he went on about Virgil’s powers. Now that Virgil had faced the Dragon Witch, he understood that worry. King Dorian had feared her finding out about his son’s abilities…. Fears that were justified when Virgil considered his family’s fate and the Dragon Witch’s final actions in Sandres.

He flipped through more pages, coming across more stories of his powers and listings of what he could do before his loss of memory. As it became clear that these powers came from Virgil’s own magic, the King’s tone changed to fondness as he described what he did to teach Virgil.

Virgil paused in his reading to examine a page that was entirely full of scribbles and mysterious splotches of ink. After a moment, he flipped to the next page and looked for an explanation.

_ Virgilius’ masterful use of a quill and ink. Today is the first day he managed to steal my journal without my notice and begin to take his own notes on his magic. Upon an examination of his input, I have found it extremely valuable and will ensure the page remains within my journal for further use. _

Virgil smiled at the note, relieved to see his father did not punish his younger self for the instant. A tinge of sadness pulled at his heart, knowing he would never know the man who spoke so fondly of him. He shook his head and continued his read through.

“Virgil?” Remy’s voice called through the library. “Are you in here?”

Virgil closed the book and looked around for a place to hide it. He knelt down and quickly put the book back where he had found it, vowing to retrieve it later when he could sneak it to his room. He wasn’t sure why he was hiding it from Remy, but it didn’t feel right to share it just yet.

“Yeah, I’m over here,” he called, standing up.

He stepped out from the shelves and walked toward his brother.

“I’m sorry, I got a bit overwhelmed by it all,” he explained.

Remy smiled softly in sympathy, “At least find anything interesting in here?”

Virgil shook his head.


	3. Chapter Three

“Now, Prince Roman, you are healing well, but I suggest another few weeks of bed rest,” Gaius said as he bandaged Roman’s burns again.

Roman frowned, “Are you sure?”

“Your Highness, I’ve been the Court Healer since your Father was your age. And practicing much longer. I know how long healing from burns takes.”

Roman huffed and looked helplessly to his father, knowing whatever Gaius said the King would uphold it. King Thomas trusted Gaius and his knowledge, rightfully so. Gaius saved countless lives within the court over the years, including Thomas’ own after several of his fights against the Dragon Witch.

King Thomas smiled in sympathy for him and patted his shoulder.

“You’ll be back to training in no time,” he promised. “Don’t worry, son.”

Gaius started packing his medical bag up to leave the chambers, “Make sure to rest and take the medicine I’m leaving you with. It should help the healing process.”

Roman nodded his head, “Alright…. I’ll sit here all day and do nothing.”

Gaius sighed and put the rest of the bandages into his bag. When he was finished, he stood from the chair beside the bed and picked up his bag.

“Unfortunately, there isn’t much you can do, however I suggest taking up activities you can do from bed, such as writing and reading.”

Roman looked over to the desk where his father was working for the past few weeks. He knew he had the supplies there to write, should he be inspired, and he could see the book Noble Joan had him reading for his studies on his bedside table.

“I will consider some,” he promised.

Gaius gave him a small smile and bowed before he headed to the door.

Roman sighed once Gaius left the room. The court healer had told him once again that he wasn’t ready to leave bedrest. He wanted nothing more than to get up from his bed and return to his training as a knight, so he was ready the next time his kingdom faced danger.

He looked over to his father who had settled back down to work at Roman’s desk for the day. If it were Virgil and not his father in the room, Roman knew he could convince him to help him try to stand, as long as no one saw. Before he messed up their friendship by flirting constantly, Virgil was always willing to help him and even by the time Virgil had left, he would have gladly helped Roman again.

“Father, I can’t even try to stand?” Roman complained.

Thomas looked up and frowned, “Roman, you heard Gaius, and I trust his judgement.”

“But, Father, I’ve done nothing but lay in bed all day,” Roman frowned. “I’ll lose my muscle mass.”

Thomas put down his quill, “That can’t be helped, and you’ll lose more if you overexert yourself now…. If you are bored I could get you something Noble Joan to study, or perhaps some paper to free write with. I could prop you up with some pillows and get you a bed table.”

“…Paper please. The last thing I want right now is to study…. Maybe later.”

Thomas smiled softly, “I can do that, Roman. I’ll get you set up.”

Thomas stood from the desk and walked over to Roman’s bed. He helped Roman sit up and moved the pillows on the bed around to help him sit up without putting stress on his body.

“Comfortable?” the King asked.

Roman shifted a bit before settling in, “I am. Thank you, Father.”

Thomas smiled at him. Roman strained a smile back.

“You’re welcome I’ll grab the bed table and your stationery set.”

“Father, I-”

Thomas snorted quietly, “Am missing Virgil? I know, I could hear your pout from your desk.”

Was how Roman feeling that obvious? Or did his father know him better than he thought…. They had spent a lot of time together in the past few weeks, since Roman woke up after his return to Sandres. He looked to the King curiously for an explanation.

“How did you know that’s what I wanted the paper for?”

Thomas smirked, “I’ve courted one or two young gentlemen in my lifetime.”

“I’ve never seen you court anyone…. Nevermind, I don’t want to,” Roman shivered.

Thomas shrugged, “I haven’t since…. It has been a long time. Sandres grew busier and I focused too much on my kingdom compared to my personal life.”

“I know,” Roman huffed.

He didn’t need to be reminded of how miserable he was as a child, especially when Patton was too busy with his kitchen duties and in the time before Virgil’s arrival at the castle. All he wanted back then was a few short minutes of his father’s attention but it never seemed to come his way.

Thomas frowned, “I know I messed up. And I’m sorry, Roman. I raised you with the promise that I would be your Father and I haven’t done a very good job at it. But I’m here now and I want to try, if you’re willing.”

“Sure…. Can we…. Just not today?” Roman asked.

As bored as Roman was, he wasn’t in the mood for a heart to heart with his father. He knew they needed to talk more and the time together provided them with the chance but he didn’t want to.

“Do you need me to go?”

“No. Just- not today?”

Thomas nodded and finished getting the stationery for Roman. He wordlessly set up the bed table for Roman and moved back to the desk.

“Thanks, Father,” Roman called quietly.

Roman opened the ink bottle and grabbed his quill, looking at the blank paper, heart heavy after the conversation he almost had with his father. He bit his lip and focused on what he could possibly say to Virgil that would not make him feel bad for leaving.

He could start with how his recovery is going. He couldn’t leave his bed yet, but most of his burns were healing well. Or he could start openly asking how Virgil’s trip was and what he thought about Picais. He’d just have to start and write whatever came to mind.

He hovered his quill above the paper. He wanted to write but the words wouldn’t come to him. He sighed and put the quill into the ink again. Roman laid back onto the pillows and stared above him, sighing again.

“You okay, kiddo?” Patton’s voice asked.

Roman turned his head and saw Patton standing in the doorway with Joyle, each carrying a silver tray filled with food.

“Hey Patton... I’m trying to write Virgil. Is that dinner?”

“It is. Roast beef, berry juice, and honey buns with eggplants and carrots for you and just eggplant for your father.”

Thomas turned around in the desk chair, “It smells wonderful, Patton! And thank you for withholding the carrots.”

Patton walked the plater over to Roman’s desk for the King and set it down on the side of the desk to avoid Thomas’ paperwork.

“I know you are rather… against carrots,” Patton added.

Roman laughed across the room, “Meaning he glares a hole into them whenever they’re in his food?”

“I don’t,” the King insisted.

“The last time Patton went away and you were served carrots, you snuck them all into the flower pot on the dining table,” Roman said, cutting into his roast beef.

Patton turned to the King, “Those moldy things were your fault?”

Thomas looked away from the chef and didn’t answer the question. Patton laughed quietly.

“Do you need us to stay or would you like to have dinner privately, my King?”

Thomas hummed, “Privately, thank you.”

Patton nodded and ushered the young servant with him towards the door, “You’re welcome, Sire. Roman, let me know before you send that letter and I’ll whip up some treats to send with it.”

“I will,” Roman promised.

Patton smiled at him and walked out the door with the servant, leaving the royals alone again.

Rather than look at his father, Roman dug into his meal by grabbing a honey bun and slowly eating it. His room was quiet throughout the meal, Roman eating at a slow pace to prolong it and Thomas respecting Roman’s obvious want for silence. When Roman was done with his meal, the King stood and walked over to his bedside.

“Let me get that out of the way for you, Roman,” he reached out to collect the plater.

Roman nodded and let his father pick up the plater with the empty plate and utensils. Thomas walked it over to his desk and put it with his own empty plater.

“Thank you, Father,” he murmured.

“You’re welcome, Roman.”

Part of Roman felt frustrated by his inability to get up and do this by himself. He knew he wasn’t recovered enough, but he should be! It had been long enough already. The Dragon Witch was long dead, yes, but there were other threats to think about. And even if there was world peace, he would still want to stand and be able to show his father he was not the weak child his father raised.

He felt weak like that child now, with how the Dragon Witch easily sent him home covered in burns with barely a fight just to send his father the message that she was coming for the castle next. And of course, it was only after that that his father gave him real attention after years of brushing him off.

With a frown, Roman picked up his pen and started writing to Virgil, asking him about his journey and telling him he missed having his friend there, trying not to sound miserable without the other there.


	4. Chapter Four

Dear  ~~ Prince ~~ Virgil,

Too little time has passed since your departure from Sandres for me to visit you in Picais, yet if you were to say the words, I would leave my bed now and ready Maximus for the journey. Alas, I know you would not ask that of me until you knew I could make the trip.

Today I was told by Gaius I require more bed rest to heal my wounds, and my father has barely left my room since your departure. My recoveries were much more enjoyable when I had your wit to keep me company throughout the day. The dry words of the books Noble Joan has me study do not compare to our conversations, which I find myself yearning for the longer I am confined to this bed.

There is my father for company, but I have not yet found it in myself to continue conversation with him. I know you would tell me it is both my father and I who need to put in effort to communicate and heal from the past. And, in part, I know you would be right. Without my willingness to listen, nothing will ever come from any talk my father tries to start. The irony is not lost on me that my father is now the one seeking the attention, and that I am now the one denying it.

When my father is unable to work from my chambers, I have often found myself enjoying Patton’s company. He talks about you often, which leaves no doubt in my mind that you are missed. I do not say so to upset you. After having raised you for so long, I believe he may need time to adjust to being on his own.

However bleak I make Sandres seem without you, I truly hope you have found Picais worthy of your time, Virgil. Should you have the time, I would appreciate hearing how you are adjusting to life in Picais. And, if your brother would permit it, I would like to visit you there when I am released from my bedrest.

I look forward to seeing you again.

Your Friend,

~~ Prince ~~ Roman

P.S. Patton is sending you some treats along with this letter. If you find yourself too busy to write to me, please consider writing to him.


	5. Chapter Five

Virgil sighed as he read through the letter Roman sent to him, he could feel the loneliness in his friend’s words. Roman was never very good at hiding how he felt, not from Virgil who had known him for years. Virgil frowned as he realized Roman was truly missing him and promised himself he would write to him and his Dad back as soon as he could. Once he had his father’s journal from the library and got the chance to look at it, he would write to them.

He would write to them now, but he worried that the journal would be gone by the time he went to find it if he waited. The journal was the only thing he had that could tell him about his abilities and maybe even how to use them safely. He could not risk walking around with uncontrolled magic. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.

Virgil set the letter down and looked at the small bundle on his table that came with the letter. He smiled softly, happy that his Dad thought to send him something. The food in Picais was good, but he had missed the taste of his Dad’s cooking. He would have one when he returned from getting the journal. He had been about to go to the library when a servant came by with the letter and package.

“I’ll be back,” he promised himself.

He turned and left his room, tracking his way through the halls to the library. When he found it, he stepped inside and looked around for Mavis. The woman wasn’t in sight, but Virgil stayed vigilant, feeling like he was stealing.

He felt conflicted by taking the journal secretly. It was his family’s library but…. He didn’t remember ever belonging here and it felt wrong to take it. Regardless of how he felt, he had to take the book. Maybe he should share it with Remy, he was the one who knew their fathers…. It could wait. Virgil needed the book more than his brother did right now.

Virgil retraced his way through the library until he came to the shelf he found the journal under. He looked around, and, once satisfied no one was around, he knelt down and reached for the book. He found it under the shelf and stood back up with it in his hands.

He looked around again and startled when Mavis came around the corner.

The old woman chuckled, “Hello, young prince. Find something you like?”

He nodded shyly, holding onto the book tighter, “Can I take it to my room?”

“Yes dear, what is it? So I can note it down,” she asked.

“Just an old journal I found, nothing big.”

Mavis hummed, interested, “I wasn’t aware we had any journals. It must have been hidden, take care of it.”

“I will,” he promised it. “Thank you.”

Virgil quickly fled the library, worried that she would tell Remy he took something from the library. He doubted she would, but the worry plagued his thoughts. He wasn’t even sure why he was worried.

He walked back to his room with a brisk pace. In his room, he settled down at his table and opened the journal once more. He flipped through the pages once more to study the entries. As he began to read, he opened the package from his dad and picked a biscuit to eat. He chewed, mindful of the journal, refusing to get crumbs on the pages.

He smiled at the taste of his dad’s baking, missing the taste in the time they were separated. He was glad his Dad thought to send it to him. Virgil finished the biscuit and grabbed a second one as he read on.

_ Virgilius is well past his third birthday and yet his magic has only grown. I fear the magic is indeed my son’s own ability and not any residual magic from his birth. At this point, I will continue to monitor my son’s growth and begin to teach him control for his safety and for that of our family. _

_ I do not believe Virgilius would ever harm us intentionally, but I do remember discovering my own abilities when I was young and the destruction that I caused in Sandres when I was taught by someone who did not care for my safety or wellbeing. I refuse to put Virgilius through the same as I was. _

_ However, I will keep his abilities quiet, so word does not reach my old teacher of my son’s powers. I will tell my Emile, but I fear I cannot let Remy know of his brother’s talents, for a young child does not know to keep secrets. It does sadden me to lie to my oldest, but I must in order to protect our family until I am certain the Witch is no threat. _

_ No one else can know until then, I hope that one day, Remy will forgive me for this. _

Virgil frowned at the passage, it explained why Remy and Logan were only aware of small parts of his abilities and possible signs. His fathers hid what he could do to protect them but the Witch found out regardless…. But how?

Virgil didn’t like the idea of the Witch finding out despite his fathers’ secrecy. It didn’t sit right with him. He knew he needed to keep this journal to himself, just while he investigated this. After that, then he could share with Remy. Just until Virgil knew the truth.

This was different from Roman and his father. Whatever happened cost his fathers their lives and destroyed their family. Virgil couldn’t let this mystery hurt his family again, not when he and his brother were just brought back together. They weren’t close and Virgil didn’t remember growing up with him, but he wouldn’t let their second chance be torn apart.

He couldn’t tell Remy about this, but maybe he could ask Roman for advice? If nothing else, King Thomas would have an idea of who worked with the Dragon Witch and might be able to tell them both about it. And maybe, this would make Roman talk to his dad.

It helped that King Thomas had faced the Dragon Witch and King Dorian before his father betrayed the Witch. If Virgil could help Roman heal his relationship with his father and begin to piece this mystery together at the same time, he would prefer it. When he wrote to Roman, he would be sure to mention it to him.

Guilt stirred in his stomach at the idea of hiding this from Remy, when it was clear he’d been excluded from a lot of Virgil’s life even before Virgil was lost. Not telling Remy was the best way to keep the situation from getting worse, if it wasn’t already resolved. This way ensured any possible spy did not overhear the conversation until Virgil knew the truth.

If there was a spy, Virgil would confront them. The Witch was gone, but he didn’t want someone who was loyal to her roaming the castle freely after what they cost his family before.

He stood from his chair and left the table to sit at his desk. He pulled out what he needed and began to write to Roman. As he penned the letter, a smile grew on his face. The matter was quite serious but at the same time, he missed trading quips with Roman. His friend was as stubborn as ever, but Gaius was right. He needed the bedrest.

“What’s got you smiling so much?”

Virgil jolted up and dropped his quill out of his hand. He turned his head and saw Remy standing behind him. Virgil relaxed his shoulders and got out of the chair. It was a good thing he hadn’t written in about the spy situation yet, he couldn’t risk Remy finding out about it. Remy could know when it was solved and safe.

“I was just writing Roman, is something wrong?”

Remy shook his head, a small smile growing on his face, “Nothing. So, just writing Roman, huh?”

Virgil blushed and bit his lip, not answering his brother. Remy laughed quietly at the lack of an answer.

“I know you’re not his biggest fan...”

Remy frowned, “We got off on the wrong foot that day. Neither of us was acting right, but he did risk himself to protect us and his kingdom. He can’t be that bad. Especially if you care about him.”

“I- Really?”

Virgil was surprised Remy had completely changed his mind from their first meeting. It wasn’t that long ago, when Virgil thought about it, but Virgil also knew that he had only known Remy for a short while. He didn’t know his brother well enough to make that judgement.

“Really,” Remy confirmed.

Virgil looked his brother in the eyes and smiled. 


	6. Chapter Six

Dear Roman,

I’ll always have time to write to you and my Dad, no matter what is happening in Picais. I will talk to Remington about your idea to visit, once you are well again, but not before. I know you too well, you would rush here before you were healed and strain yourself further. Please listen to Gaius and rest. In the meantime, we can write to each other.

Alright, Princey? Don’t make me come back to force you to rest. Though, we both know you would find a way to convince me to help you. I’ve lost count of the amount of times Gaius has scolded me for helping you escape your bedrest.

I wish I could merely tease you for the rest of my letter. Unfortunately, there are pressing matters I need to address. I’ve discovered there may have been a spy for the Dragon Witch within my fathers’ court. My father, King Dorian, kept my abilities secret from even Remy and yet the Dragon Witch found out about them. I don’t know for sure and I don’t know if they would still be here or not. I haven’t told Remy or Logan about this yet, fearing that our conversation could be heard and give it away.

I’m asking you for help so I can start to piece together what is going on. Your father fought the Witch and might know someone that she worked with who could have found their way into Picais.

The only source of information I have to go on is a journal of King Dorian’s that I found in the library. It hasn’t mentioned much about any suspected spy, but it’s told me a lot about my life as a child…. We were happy. It feels very strange to consider, especially with everything that has happened and how I found Remington again, but I had a life here before.

If I do discover a spy still present, I am going to make sure they can’t hurt my family again. I don’t want to put Remington through that again and frankly, I do not wish to be ripped away from them again. I am not saying I regret living in Sandres or meeting you. I don’t think I could. Your friendship? My Dad? Neither of these I want to lose.

The spy would put it all at risk. So Roman, please, I know things are bad with your father, but please ask him if he knows anything.

Your Friend,

Virgil


	7. Chapter Seven

Roman clutched the edge of his bed, forcing his legs to stand for the first time in weeks. His legs trembled with weakness caused by their disuse. He hated the idea of being this weak as his legs began to ache, still he pushed himself fully upright. He might be weak now but the more he tried, the sooner he would regain his strength.

He grinned and took a hesitant step forward. His left leg gave out and he caught himself on the bed’s edge.

“ROMAN!”

The sudden shout startled Roman and he snapped his head up to see his father standing in the doorway. His grip on the edge of his bed slipped and he fell to the floor with a hefty thud. Pain shot through his ribs and he suppressed a hiss of pain.

“Roman, you know you aren’t to be walking yet!”

The king rushed over to help his son, throwing down the books and papers held in his arms. He picked Roman up and placed him back on the bed, eyes searching for a sign the prince had caused further harm to himself.

“I’m fine,” Roman groaned, sore from the fall.

He did not need to be babied now that he was grown. He was injured, yes, but he was far better off than he was when he returned to the castle. Roman did not need to be treated like a fragile doll that would shatter, he was recovering. Recovery meant challenging himself and working towards resuming normal life once more.

“No, no you aren’t,” Thomas said firmly. “You’re still hurt, son.”

“I am well enough to try,” Roman insisted. “Father, how could I not grow restless? I have been bedridden since before the Dragon Witch’s attack on the castle some weeks ago.”

He was trying not to argue with his father, but he could feel his frustration bubbling just below the surface. He had no proper way of letting it out, he couldn’t leave or even train to relieve how he was feeling. As frustration tended to, it would erupt from him soon enough.

“I am aware,” Thomas said gently. “I nearly lost you that day… I do not want to make that mistake again.”

“Yet it was one you made many times,” Roman huffed.

“Son, I… I know I have and I refuse to make it again. It is not fair to you to willingly make it once more when I know how much it hurt you,” Thomas frowned, settling in the chair beside the bed.

Anger flared in Roman’s eyes, which grew at the remorseful sight of Thomas while he spoke, “Father, you say that now when I am grown. That does not undo the pain I suffered in the past.”

“I do not expect it to,” Thomas soothed. “I merely wish you to know I will not neglect you again.”

Roman pursed his lips in thought, “Alright, I can accept that for now.”

Roman sat up in the bed and winced at the pain in his torso. Thomas made a small noise of distress at the wince and reached out to touch Roman’s ribcage.

“Where does it hurt?” he asked gently.

Roman took his father’s hand and rested it above where the pain was coming from. Thomas bit his lip and sighed. King Thomas looked to Roman and worried brown eyes met Roman’s pained green. Roman’s anger ebbed away at the sight of his father’s worry for him. He was tired of the anger and pain this was causing him, so he allowed it to slip away for now.

“I need to retrieve Gaius and have him check you over. If I leave, can you promise you will not leave the bed?”

Roman laid himself back down, hissing at the feeling, “I can.”

“Thank you, Roman,” the King smiled. “I promise I will not be gone long.”

The King let go of Roman’s hand and stood from the chair beside Roman’s bed. Thomas exited the room and left Roman alone with his thoughts once more. As he waited, he looked around his room, bored. He wasn’t going to try to walk again today, his ribs hurt too much for him to even consider the action. He looked to the books and papers his father had dropped to see if there was anything interesting there or if it was all work for his father and books for Roman to study.

At the top of the piles on the floor was a letter, he couldn’t make out what was written on it but he recognized the handwriting and smiled. Virgil had written back to him! He hadn’t expected to hear back from Virgil so soon, but after his fall he appreciated the chance to hear from him. He’d have to let Patton know Virgil sent something back. He would ask his father to give it to him when Gaius was done checking him over.

It did not take long for his father to return with the court physician, who gave Roman a tired look. The old man set his bag down on the end of the bed.

“Your Father said you were trying to walk already, despite your bedrest orders?” Gaius asked, taking out fresh bandages. “Might as well change your bandages while I’m here. Where is your pain?”

Roman pointed out the section of his ribs where the pain was. He then reached to take off his shirt and winced as he began to lift his arms.

“Let me help,” Thomas reached over and helped Roman get the shirt off so that they could undo the bandages and look at his ribs more closely.

“Thank you, Father.”

Thomas offered Roman a small smile and moved out of the way so Gaius could begin his work. Gaius examined Roman’s ribs, mindful of the healing burns on his body. He frowned as Roman flinched in pain at the gentle touch of his hands.

“Sire, it seems Prince Roman has bruised his ribs. I do not believe they are broken, but this will extend his need to rest,” Gaius concluded after a few minutes. “I will rewrap his wounds and give him something for the pain.”

Roman groaned at the statement, an extension of his bedrest was the last thing he had wanted to come from today. He wanted to show his strength through attempting to walk again, to show that he could carry himself despite the injuries done unto him. Yet, here he was being told he was still weak and had prolonged his own recovery.

“If you had listened the first time, you would not have the extra wait, Your Highness,” Gaius tsked.

Roman sighed, “I don’t want to stay in bed all day when my time could be put to better use.”

“Your time is best put to use resting,” Gaius told him.

King Thomas nodded in agreement, “Son, we need you to be well. We don’t need you to prove your strength. It’s all I want from you, is you to be well. And one day ready to take my throne.”

Roman crossed his arms and shifted in his spot as Gaius got the bandages ready to apply. He winced but looked to his father again.

“Is that all you care about? Me taking over for you?”

Thomas’ eyebrows furrowed in distress, “No, no. Roman, I want nothing more than your future being a safe one. This does include you becoming King, but that is not my priority. You being safe is my priority.”

“Am I supposed to believe that?” Roman asked.

Thomas bit his lip as he considered what to say next. Roman waited for his answer.

“You do not have to believe me, Roman. I hope to prove it to you one day, by my actions, not my words,” Thomas said gently. “I know you don’t remember too much of what Sandres was like when you were a child, but I’ve only ever wanted to make sure you did not inherit a kingdom filled with scars from my battles with the Witch. And through my focus on that future, I neglected you in those moments. I regret that so much.”

Roman was quiet, thinking back to all the moments he was ushered away from his father, told his father was busy, or ignored when he was around. The idea of letting that all go felt wrong, but holding onto it the way that he has hurt too much. He knew his father regretted what happened, but it didn’t take away the loneliness.

“I don’t understand, but I will try as long as you do too,” he said quietly.

The King offered a tired smile, “I will.”

Roman uncrossed his arms and allowed for Gaius to begin bandaging his wounds again.


	8. Chapter Eight

Roman sat back onto the pillows, holding the letter from Virgil in his hands. He opened the envelope and took out the paper, a smile growing on his face. He was very happy to see Virgil replied to him, he hadn’t been expecting Virgil to get back to him anytime soon. Since not only was Virgil becoming used to being a prince, but he was getting used to an entirely new home.

He read through the letter, the smile fading from his face as he got further into the letter. A spy in Picais? Despite the Witch meeting her demise, Roman understood why having one of her agents within the castle walls was dangerous. The Witch was gone and anyone still loyal to her would be looking for revenge.

The news that Virgil had found a connection to his fathers helped him feel a little better. Virgil deserved having part of his old life back, of learning about his family and who he could have become. The knowledge of a spy was unfortunate, but at least it wasn’t the only thing Virgil had found in his homeland.

…Was the issue he had with his father so bad his friend thought Roman would ignore his need for help in favor of preserving his own feelings? It did sound like something he might have once done…. He could not blame Virgil for fearing so. However, the next time his father was here Roman would ask him if there was anything he remembered. It shouldn’t be long. The King had a meeting with some nobles and then he had said he would return.

Roman sighed and felt the paper in his hand. He could see where Virgil was the most worried because his quill had indented the paper deeper in those places, making darker ink splotches than where he felt happier. The threat of losing the family he had found was weighing on his friend’s mind.

“Don’t worry, Virgil… I’ll help you,” he said quietly.

He picked up the book the Noble Joan was having him read, knowing there wasn’t much else for him to be doing. He didn’t want to study but wanted something to pass the time while his father was in his meeting. The book was slightly better than others he had read over the passing weeks, the author’s words almost witty enough to remind him of Virgil.

He shifted as he began to read, taking pressure off of his injured ribs. It would be time to take his tonic soon. Roman knew he needed to wait until his father returned from his meeting though, considering it was on his desk across the room. He had learned his lesson on trying to walk.

If Roman wanted to see Virgil again, he would need to recover from his injuries first. If possible, he would like to recover soon enough to go to Picais and help Virgil figure out the spy situation so that Virgil wasn’t the sole person trying to handle the situation. He didn’t like the idea of Virgil fighting an unknown foe by himself.

His eyes scanned the pages of his book but he knew his mind wasn’t processing what he was reading. He sighed and put down the book, looking at the door hoping his father would walk through it sooner than later.

He thought back to what he’s heard about his father’s fights with the Dragon Witch. The only assistant he could think of was Virgil’s father, who had turned against the Witch and passed long ago.

He huffed and blew a strand of hair out of his face. He would need a haircut before long. Certainly before he left for Picais. Part of him knew that a haircut wasn’t as important as helping Virgil with the spy situation, but he still wanted to look the best he could when he faced Virgil again. It was selfish, but he didn’t want Virgil to see him messy and weak any more than he had.

His eyes caught sight of his reflection in the mirror across his room. He didn’t look much like himself, covered in bandages and pale from weeks spent inside his room. His auburn hair framed his face limply, despite being neatly brushed. Perhaps he could ask his father to help him wash up…. Or someone. 

He was vaguely surprised no one had said anything to him before now. He knew his father was focused on trying to be a good father, so it made sense that he would say nothing. But anyone else? Well…. He was their prince and Virgil wasn’t here any longer. No one else would say anything.

He almost wished Virgil was here to call him out on his moping yet was grateful Virgil  _ couldn’t  _ see it.

The door to his room opened, and he looked away from the mirror to see his father walking in. The King offered him a warm smile and shut the door behind him.

“Hello Roman, how’re you feeling?”

Roman shrugged, “Same as when you left. I read my letter from Virgil…. Can we talk?”

Thomas frowned and settled down beside his bed, “What’s wrong?”

Roman shook his head, thinking of the best way to describe what he could say. He knew Virgil wanted this kept secret and didn’t want his father rushing off to Picais to fight some foe that may not even be there. And if it were, his father was the one who ultimately killed the Witch and that would make him the perfect target for the spy to get revenge.

Roman spent years trying to get his father to acknowledge him, and he didn’t want to lose it now that he had it. His father meant a lot to him when it came down to it. No matter the hurt or the anger that he felt.

“Virgil thinks there may be one of the Witch’s agents within the Picais castle,” he spoke calmly. “He wanted me to ask you if you knew anything that could help him figure it out. He didn’t want to risk a possible spy overhearing him talk to King Remington about it.”

Thomas pressed his lips together, thinking it over, “That is wise of him. If there is a spy within the castle and they overheard him, it could force them to act rashly to escape or silence him. What information did he need?”

“Anything you can give him,” Roman replied, running a hand through his hair.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the feeling but it could wait until later. Virgil needed help and then he could ask for help getting clean.

His father was silent for a few moments, thinking back to his battles with the Witch and her followers. Her right hand was long gone, Thomas knew, but there were a few others. Not that Dorian would have harmed his own family and cost himself his life. Not from what they’ve heard from King Remington.

“I don’t remember much; it’s been so long. But I do have a name for him to start with. Gary Ashdown, a burly fellow. Not very good at magic, but an excellent fighter and smuggler.”

“What did he look like?” Roman asked.

Thomas furrowed his brow and thought back, “He was pale with brown hair. His nose was small and he had a square jaw.”

Roman nodded soberly, “It’s a start. Can you get me my stationery so that I may write him back? I don’t want to wait in case this information will help him.”

The King nodded and went to retrieve the supplies for his son. Roman smiled as his father set up the bed table for him and brought over his stationery.

“Thank you, Father,” he spoke softly.

Thomas smiled back, his expression a mixture of joy and worry. Roman knew his father didn’t like the idea of letting Roman and Virgil handle this potential danger. The King never said so, but the way his brow furrowed as he watched Roman begin to write made it all too clear.

Roman wrote with haste, not wanting to waste any time embellishing his letter to make it sound more poetic. Now was not the time for how he felt, even if the danger proved false. When he finished the letter, he put it into an envelope and addressed it to Virgil.

He handed the envelope to his father who left the room to find their messenger.


	9. Chapter Nine

Dear Virgil,

I spoke to my father about your letter. I regret to inform you that he could only offer you a name of a man and his description. The man’s name is Gary Ashdown. Ashdown should have a pale complexion, brown hair, a small nose, and a square jaw. My father claimed he was burly, though that may have changed over the years. I wish I could offer you more information and I would if I had more to give you. If my father does think of anything else, I will write to you immediately.

If I could, I would hand deliver this news to you myself. I’m afraid your advice to listen to Gaius came moments too late, as I already tried to walk again and have further delayed my recovery by injuring my ribs. This does mean that I will be listening to Gaius in the future and resting, if only to avoid wasting away in my bed for the rest of my life.

I am happy you have found something that helped you start to connect to your old life, hopefully it will offer you some guidance on training your magic and perhaps, to our current situation. I understand you don’t want to lose what’s left of your family, and I will gladly offer you my help in protecting it. Let me know if you come across anything else that you need me to look into.

I hate to admit that I enjoy the idea of being able to help you. It is rather selfish of me to consider, but I have spent far too long in bed without being able to do anything useful.

Virgil, wherever this leads, spy or no spy, please stay safe. If there is a spy and he has remained within the castle all these years, he will not want you to expose him and may try to hurt you to keep you from doing so. So please, just be careful.

Your Friend,

Roman


	10. Chapter Ten

The morning had been quiet so far. Virgil ate breakfast with Remy in his study, giving his brother a well-deserved break from his work. Virgil picked at the biscuit in his hands and stuffed small bits into his mouth, piece by piece, enjoying the morning.

“I see your table manners haven’t improved over the years,” Remy teased, despite doing the same thing to his biscuit.

Virgil snorted at that and continued to eat his biscuit. He looked over some of the papers laying on Remy’s desk, multiple had to do with Remy’s idea to start trade with Sandres. Virgil liked the idea of opening trade with Sandres because it opened the idea of Remy going on another visit to Sandres, which would get him out of the castle and out of danger if Virgil found a spy using whatever information Roman would send back to him. However, it would mean staying behind in Picais and not visiting Dad and Roman.

The door to the study opened, and Virgil glanced back to see Logan walk in with a solemn face. Virgil put down the remainder of his biscuit and sat up in his chair, knowing whatever was going to happen would be serious.

“I was informed by the guards that Sir Gary Ashdown was found murdered,” Logan said. “Our librarian, Mavis, discovered him in the library this morning.”

Virgil recognized the name from his welcoming feast. He didn’t know how he felt hearing the man had been murdered, it was a strange feeling. Not sad, but something.

“I met him at the feast, he said he worked with our father, King Dorian,” Virgil said.

Remy pursed his lips, “I don’t remember Baba working with him, but I do remember him speaking to me after Baba’s passing. He was a kind man, maybe the only nobleman who didn’t act as if they pitied me.”

Virgil shrugged, “Must’ve been before we were born.”

Virgil found it strange that Gary would tell him that without having worked closely with King Dorian before he was killed. Could he have been connected to the Witch?

“I believe he arrived in Picais shortly after King Dorian had switched sides, but they had been friends after that,” Logan clarified.

“What do we do?” Virgil asked.

Logan looked to Virgil, “We will have to put the castle on lockdown, while the guards attempt to locate the killer. In the meantime, I am advising you to stay close to Remington so that I may protect you both.”

Virgil nodded, “Would this prevent me from receiving letters?”

“Considering who you are writing to? No,” Logan smiled knowingly. “Remington will continue working on a trade agreement with King Thomas, and therefore our correspondence with Sandres will continue. And on that topic, you have a letter from Prince Roman.”

Logan took the letter for Virgil out of his breast pocket and handed it to him. He smiled as Virgil took it from his hands and opened the envelope.

“I have to say, that prince of yours wrote back rather quickly,” Remy teased as he picked up his quill to write a statement on the murder.

Virgil flushed and shook his head, “He’s not my prince.”

“Sure he isn’t, Vee.”

Virgil’s eyes scanned the paper swiftly, eyes widening as he read the name King Thomas had supplied. If Gary Ashdown was dead…. He couldn’t be the spy Virgil feared was lurking in the court. Virgil wasn’t sure if his death confirmed the spy was present, but if there was one, the spy knew Virgil was onto them. He needed to be extra careful or else they would come for him next.

He would let Roman know soon. For now, he needed to pretend nothing was wrong, while he was being watched. He had the feeling he wouldn’t have much alone time in the following weeks. Virgil would find a way to pass the information onto Roman without Remy finding out about the spy.

He read on and frowned, understanding Roman enough to know how he was feeling. Roman always needed to prove himself and being stuck on bedrest was hard for him, especially without a friend to talk to. “What’s wrong?” Remy asked, looking up from his papers. “Something happen?”

“Roman hurt himself trying to walk too soon,” Virgil replied. “He does it all the time.”

Virgil folded the letter and looked at Logan, “I need to go to my room, so I don’t lose the letter during the day.”

Logan nodded, “Wise. We’ll accompany you so that nothing happens to you.”

Virgil pressed his lips together, wondering how he could slip King Dorian’s journal out of his room without either of the men seeing it. He couldn’t risk Remy finding it before he was ready to tell him.

Remy put down his quill and stood from his desk chair, “A break doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

The three men left Remy’s study and walked down the halls to go to Virgil’s room. Logan looked around vigilantly as they made their way, careful to spot any potential danger before it could harm the king and prince.

“While we are there, perhaps you should pack up a few things so that you may stay in Remington’s room,” Logan suggested. “It would be best to stay in the same room at night, in case someone tries to attack.”

Virgil had assumed Logan would suggest that. He still wasn’t sure to get the journal out of the room. He had to, so he could keep reading for more clues.

“That’s for the best,” Virgil responded.

When they got to his room, Logan opened the door first and looked around in case someone was waiting inside.

“It’s safe,” he said.

“I could handle it if someone was there,” Virgil said.

“I know, but I don’t want to risk it,” Logan replied.

They entered the room and Virgil started to gather some of his things to take to Remy’s room. He thought back to where he left the book…. His desk. He turned around quickly to see Remy sitting at the desk, gently picking up the book.

“Virgil, what is this? It looks like…. Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is?”

Virgil’s eyes widened, and Remy opened the book. Remy looked at the pages, gently flipping through the book. He sniffled and slammed the book shut.

“Why would you keep this from me?” he asked, voice shaking from rage.

“Remy, I-”

“No! You found something of our Baba’s and you didn’t tell me! How could you?”

Virgil flinched at the exclamation. His mind raced for his reasoning, to explain to Remy so he wouldn’t be angry anymore. To fix it.

“Remy, I was going to tell you,” he scrambled for words. “Truly, I was.”

“But you didn’t!” Remy accused.

Virgil looked to Logan for help, knowing the man was always a mediator before when the two had their problems. Logan shook his head, and Virgil knew he had to sort this out for himself. Virgil sighed and looked away from the adviser.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Remy demanded.

Virgil bit his lip, “I don’t know! I just- I don’t know!”

Remy crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Virgil. Virgil squirmed under the accusing eyes of his brother, he didn’t like the feeling developing in his core. His stomach twisted at the idea of Remy being upset at him, despite the short time they had spent as a family again.

“It was stupid to hide it at first! Fine!”

“At first?  _ At first!” _

“I wanted something that was just mine! I don’t have anything from before, and it was selfish of me, but I needed to see for myself what it was like, okay?” Virgil shouted. “All you do is tell me what you  _ thought  _ it was like, but I have no way of knowing for myself!”

Remy paused for a moment before shouting back, “Why couldn’t you trust me?”

“I do! I just wanted to do it without you!”

Remy flinched as if slapped. Virgil’s eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“No, wait, Remy. That’s not- that’s not what I meant,” he said.

“Then what did you mean?” Remy hissed

“I don’t… I don’t know. I feel… like you expect me to just remember or take your word for it,” Virgil explained quietly. “And I can’t do that. I needed to read through it for myself before I went to you.”

Remy’s harsh expression softened, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that… What did you mean by at first?”

Virgil took a deep breath and crossed the room, letter from Roman in his hand, “There… The journal said our father was keeping the extent of my abilities secret, even from you. But the Witch knew about me. When I realized that, I kept it quiet so I could find out if there was a spy here, even now that the Dragon Witch is gone.”

Virgil handed the letter to his brother, “I asked Roman for help, but as you can see, the information… won’t help me. Gary Ashdown is dead, which I find suspicious. I didn’t tell you because I wanted to protect you.”

Remy’s eyes scanned the letter from the prince, “What, so you were running off into danger alone? So I could lose you  _ again _ ?”

Remy looked up from the letter, expression pained. He reached out and hesitantly took Virgil’s hand, holding onto it tightly. His chest heaved with grief.

“We could have done this together, Vee. I-I can’t lose you like I did before, not again. There’s no guarantee you’ll come back a second time.”

“You won’t,” Virgil promised quietly, squeezing his hand back. “I just need room to breathe. And to figure out some of this on my own, my way. But that doesn’t mean you’ll lose me. It was a mistake to keep it from you, I only wanted to keep the spy from finding out and hurting you. I’m sorry.”

Remy nodded, “I’m sorry too, Virgil. But now that I know, we look into this together, got it?”

“Got it,” Virgil replied.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Dear Roman,

Thank you for helping me so far. Gary Ashdown was a member of the court here in Picais, but he was killed the morning your letter was delivered. This doesn’t mean we weren’t going in the right direction. I don’t think it was a coincidence that the moment I started to look into this situation, he was murdered. I can’t be sure yet, but I do know that we’ll figure it out one way or another.

The castle is under lockdown but, thankfully, our letters are continuing as Remy is also communicating with your father about trade negotiations. Due to this, Remy and I are staying in the same room with Logan acting as our protector. I believe I could handle an attacker, but I need to study my father’s journal more before I am confident enough to start trying to practice more magic.

Speaking of my journal… Remy found out about everything.

We fought, but we are working on it. It is tense between us, but I think I have a better understanding of him. He’s as scared to lose more as I am of him, maybe even more so. Now that he knows, he plans on helping me find out what is going on in Picais, so we stay safe.

I understand your need to help me, and I’m glad you have. You don’t need to prove yourself to me though. What I would want the most from you is you recovering. As someone who cares about you, that is what matters the most. You are worthy of attention, Roman. Of being cared for, either stuck in bed or training with the knights.

Your Friend,

Virgil

* * *

Dear Virgil,

I’m sorry to hear the situation in Picais has gotten worse. My father hasn’t remembered anything else that could help you, but I’m going to ask him if he kept any records of the fights and the Dragon Witch’s accomplices.

Virgil, please stay safe. I don’t want to belittle you, but I trust Logan’s swordsmanship to keep you safe more than I trust your magic to. Because it’s new and I don’t want to find out you’re hurt because of it. Now that King Remington and Logan are close and they know…. Don’t try to push them away. It sounds hypocritical and arrogant coming from me, but if they care about you and want to help, let them.

I know you said King Remington plans to, but I just don’t want you isolated without a soul to turn to in Picais.

Thank you, Virgil…. It’s hard for me to consider what you’ve said. I do not deserve to be put up on some pedestal because I am your friend. I know you care, yet I feel helpless knowing I am here, safe in recovery, while you are in danger. I care about you too much to comfortably wait to heal in my bed while you could be hurt.

I’m sorry I can’t help you more.

Your Friend,

Roman

* * *

Dear Roman,

I’m going to stay safe, I can promise you that. Logan isn’t allowing Remy and I to go anywhere alone right now, which may be wise considering the situation. It’s a little suffocating to have no true alone time, but Remy has started to give me space during the day, letting me figure things out on my own. I promise you, Roman, I’m going to be okay. 

However, don’t talk about my best friend like that. He isn’t perfect that’s for sure, yet he’s changed and matured a lot since this situation started. He risked his life to protect mine and my family’s and nearly lost it. And now he’s telling me he doesn’t want to recover? To stay safe while he is hurt?

Roman, if I could, I would come to visit just to force you to follow your bed rest. You’re so much more important to me than any help or information you could offer me. You are my friend, first and foremost. You don’t need to be my hero, sweeping me off my feet and saving the day. What I need is you being alive and well, okay?

For all I care, you could be truly useless, though you aren’t. It doesn’t matter to me if you never touched a sword again, I would never think less of you over something like that. It’s the man behind the sword and shield that matters to me, not the metal he carries around. 

Whatever you do, don’t assume that your worth as a hero is all I care about.

Don’t apologize for not helping me enough. If you are feeling helpless, we’ll talk through it, or you could reach out to your father. Whatever you need to do to feel safe and secure, Roman. If you need me to help you, I will be glad to do so.

Your Friend,

Virgil

* * *

Dear Virgil,

I do not mean to worry you. I talked to my father like you suggested…. You were right about reaching out to him. I don’t feel better about it fully, but it helped a bit to have his reassurance. I’m glad you both care about me, and I know I need to try to believe the two of you more.

I care about you both a lot. You’re my best friend, Virgil. If you think I don’t need to be a hero, I can’t say I agree with you, but I would be willing to consider that you could be correct. It’s just… being the knight, the _hero_ , was the only way I could get attention for so long that I don’t know how to stop being the knight and the prince to my people, the hero. 

Gaius gave me permission to start trying to walk in the time between when I sent my last letter to you and when I received your reply. It hasn’t been easy to start again. My legs feel weak and shake, but at this point, I’ll take it. If it means I get to be out of bed again, even for a few minutes at a time with my father’s support.

If I keep up my progress, I believe I will be able to come out to you sooner than I thought, though before it felt like I would never be able to come help. Would I even be able to come to the castle while it is on lockdown? Perhaps it will be forever before I can come.

Have you found anything useful in your journal yet? You said I do not have to be useful, but I still want to help you in any way that I can because I care about you.

Your Friend,

Roman

* * *

Dear Roman,

I’m glad to hear you are doing better than the last time you wrote me. It really sounded like you needed to talk out how you were feeling and even if it weren’t with me, I’m happy you did it.

I haven’t found out anything new about the spy. After what happened to Ashdown, things have settled back down in the castle. Though we haven’t lifted our restrictions, so I am still staying in Remy’s room with him and Logan. Nothing else has happened in our castle, but we aren’t taking the chance by calming down.

If we haven’t found the murderer before you are healed, we might be able to get your father and Remy to agree for a visit to have you come to Picais as part of the trade agreements. From there, we could work to solve this together.

However, I have started to figure out more about my family and my magic through my father’s entries. It has become much easier for me to levitate objects by following the tips my father noted down and practicing on smaller objects like books. The journal said I was starting to manipulate the shadows around me with my Baba’s help. I haven’t figured out how to do that yet, but I’ve been trying. I’ll write to you about it when I figure it out.

Besides trying to figure out my powers and if the murder is even related to a spy, I’ve been spending more time with Remy. I have to admit I like having a brother, which is a huge improvement from when he first arrived in Sandres, when I wanted nothing to do with him. Sometimes, it makes me wonder what my life would have been like if the Dragon Witch never attacked…. Not that I regret knowing you. Maybe we would’ve met as children.

It’s far too late to think about that, but we still have time to think about what the future will bring.

Your Friend,

Virgil

* * *

Dear Virgil,

I’ve asked my father about going to Picais to secure the trade agreement myself, once I am healed. He was concerned with my safety, but I believe I could convince him if King Remington suggested something similar to him.

I have progressed to walking for short bouts, so I might be able to come by the time I receive your reply. I’m hoping so at least. I could be wrong, but I might be able to use the carriage journey from Sandres to Picais to convince my father I will have enough rest to come.

Either way, I know my father will want me accompanied by a guard or a servant…. And I think I could convince my father to go without Patton’s cooking for a few weeks. I would never put your dad in danger, and even if he were to come, I would have guards with me to protect us on our journey. If you think it is too dangerous, I would come alone with the guards.

And even if I do not get to see you for a while, I’m happy for you. When we found out who you were, I will admit I was selfish in my reaction and it nearly cost me my friendship with you. You don’t need to feel guilty about finding yourself or how you feel in Picais. We can’t change the past, but we can write our future however we want, and if for you that means living in Picais, it’s okay.

Yours  _ Your _ Friend,

Roman

* * *

Dear Roman,

Thank you, Roman. It means a lot to me to hear you validate what I’m going through right now. Neither of us was fair to the other, and we both took it too far. We’re still friends and that’s what matters to me now. We’re going to be okay.

It is dangerous to come, but if you feel ready, I would like to see you again…. And my dad. I miss you both a lot. For the longest time, I only had you and dad, and it is strange to be without you. I’m close with my brother now, but I miss having my best friend around to tease and my dad around to talk, too.

Now if you show up weak and unable to stand, I’m going to make you go on bedrest and write to your father about it. Not because I’m upset with you, but because I would be furious at him for sending his son away while he was still injured and hurt.

I’ve had Remy write to your father to convince him of the idea, and I hope it works out in our favor. I can’t wait to see you, Roman.

Your Friend,

Virgil

* * *

Dearest Virgil,

My father received the letter from King Remington, and he has agreed to let me go to Picais with a group of guards and your dad. We will depart after my final check up with Gaius, just in case Gaius thinks travel will be too demanding on me right now.

I have started to walk around the castle with much more ease than when we first started to write to each other. I know I don’t need to be a hero, but it is a great relief to be mobile again. To feel like I could at least run if I were in trouble, if I’m unable to try to fight.

I will be packing my belongings with Joyle shortly. And helping your dad figure out what he needs to bring on this trip. When I told him of our plan, he was overjoyed. Have you been writing to him? I know there is a lot going on but if you get the scolding of a lifetime for forgetting to write your dad, it’s not on me. I’m warning you now.

I’ll see you soon, Virgil.

Your Friend,

Roman


	12. Chapter Twelve

Virgil put down the letter from Roman and looked across the room to Remy with a nervous smile. His brother had his head down as he wrote away, trying to finish the final draft of the trade agreements based on what he had discussed with King Thomas. Virgil knew Roman would be looking it over before anything was signed.

“He’s really coming,” Virgil breathed, a small smile twitching on his lips.

“He is,” Remy looked up, smiling at him. “I knew you couldn’t keep your prince away for too long.”

“He’s not my prince,” Virgil huffed.

Remy rolled his eyes and went back to his writing. Virgil smiled and looked down at the letter, reading through it again. His eyes landed on the part about his dad… Roman was right; he had forgotten to write his father again. He hoped his dad wasn’t too mad…. He wouldn’t be, it was Dad. Dad would understand. He hoped.

And Roman.  _ Roman  _ was going to be here. What did Virgil have to wear? He wanted to look nice when he saw his friend again. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much about his appearance right now. Why was he so nervous? It was just Roman. Roman saw Virgil when he was twelve and had long lanky limbs and baby fat on his face. Why did it matter?

He rubbed the letter between his finger and thumb, biting on his lip.

“I can hear your anxiety from all the way across the room,” Remy said without looking up from his work.

Virgil looked over at his brother and saw Remy putting down his quill. Remy stood from his desk and walked over to where Virgil sat on the love seat. He sat down next to Virgil and poked him in the side.

“I can help. What’s eating at you? Your dad? Or your crush?”

Virgil folded the letter with care and put it down on the coffee table in front of the love seat. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair and looked over.

“It is a crush, isn’t it? I thought it was just a fluke or something in Sandres. But I like him a lot,” Virgil said. “Maybe it’s because I was afraid he didn’t like me for so long? What do I do?”

Remy laughed quietly, “Well, first of all, I know how long it takes for a letter to get from here to Sandres. He is writing to you immediately when he gets those letters. Your prince has it bad.”

Virgil flushed and looked away. Maybe it was true, but…. It was weird to think about.

“What about the lockdown? Are they going to be safe?”

Remy nodded and gestured to Logan, who was reading across the room, “You think Logan would even let us consider this if he didn’t think we had enough guards on duty? This is our first royal visit in years. We need to make a good impression, lockdown or not. And we are. Your prince? Your dad? They’ll be fine.”

Virgil smiled at him. It helped to hear Remy was confident things would be okay. He was still worried about the spy. Sure, nothing had happened. Yet. It had been quiet. What if the spy was waiting for them to relax and took Roman’s visit as a sign to strike again?

“Ah, ah. Whatever you’re thinking won’t happen, Prince Roman is going to be fine. And Patton? He will be okay. We will keep them safe,” Remy promised. “And your magic has been getting better, right? If it comes down to it, you can save us.”

Virgil nodded, and Remy wrapped his arms around him. Virgil rested his head against his brother’s shoulder, sinking into the hug and thinking through what Remy said. The amount of guards Virgil had seen lately had doubled, accomplished by temporarily reducing the off time the guards had with a larger pay to make up for the last time. If there was a threat, it was being handled.

He knew he would feel better when he saw his dad and friend again. He was just nervous. He knew Remy was too, even if he didn’t say it. He wasn’t sure if it was the danger or the pressure of hosting a foreign royal. Or maybe it was because Dad and Roman were so important to Virgil?

“I trust you,” Virgil told him. “Are preparations almost done?”

Remy nodded his head, “I gave them the best rooms in the castle. And I had the kitchens stocked in case you and your dad wanted to do anything special for yourselves while he was around.”

Virgil smiled at the idea, he would like to spend some time with his dad while he could. Of course, he wanted time with Roman as well, but his dad? Virgil didn’t get to spend a lot of time with his dad before he left for Picais and he regretted it.

“Thanks, Remy.”

Virgil sat up and looked to Remy, “You never got a chance to read Baba’s journal, right? Do you want to?”

Virgil knew Remy didn’t want to talk about how he was feeling, but he could offer something that might help Remy feel better. He couldn’t give Remy their fathers back, and he understood that. He just wanted to offer Remy the chance to have that connection with one of them, even though they are gone.

“Really?” Remy asked quietly, voice faint with disbelief.

“Really. You deserve the chance to see it, and I should’ve let you see it a while ago. To look through it.”

Remy smiled, his eyes tearing up, “I’d like to see Baba’s handwriting again. I miss them so much.”

“I know,” Virgil told him quietly.

Virgil stood up and grabbed the journal from the bedside table. He smiled softly at the familiar cover of the leather journal. He turned and walked back to the loveseat, settling back down into his spot next to his brother. Virgil opened the journal and handed it to Remy.

“A lot of it is about Baba trying to understand my magic and taking notes about it. He wrote about us a bit, too, his worries and, towards the end, his relief that you didn’t have his magic. And his fears that I did. He loved us a lot,” Virgil said.

Remy smiled softly, tracing the words written on the page. He scanned the pages, taking in his father’s tone. He laughed quietly and wiped his eyes.

“Look at this, you scribbled all over his page. Oh! And he wrote a description for it! He wrote, ‘Virgilius’ masterful use of a quill and ink. Today is the first day he managed to steal my journal without my notice and begin to take his own notes on his magic. Upon an examination of his input, I have found it extremely valuable and will ensure the page remains within my journal for further use.’”

Virgil smiled at him, remembering what it felt like to read it for the first time, “I’ve read that part. The night I found it. I was surprised he wasn’t upset with me when I did that.”

“Baba wasn’t like that,” Remy assured. “It seems like he loved that you added it. Baba and Dad kept all kinds of things that we made for them as kids. No matter if it was a bunch of unintelligent scribbles.”

“Are there any left?”

Remy frowned, “Not many. A lot were destroyed in the attack; we have portraits like the one in my office. Not much else. Where did you find the journal?”

“Under a shelf in the library the night of my welcoming feast. I thought it was a strange place for it, but with the dust coated on it, it had been there a long time. Maybe that is where Baba hid it?” Virgil suggested.

Remy shrugged, “Maybe so. If you were a spy, you wouldn’t look for the King’s documents under a shelf in the library, you’d check his office.”

Virgil thought it was strange that the journal had been there, but he had never been able to come up with a proper explanation for it. For now, he would have to accept that it was there even before when he found it. He might figure it out eventually, but whatever it was, he was glad to have it.

“Maybe we’ll find out, but at least we have it.”

“The journal and each other,” Remy corrected. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

The castle was bustling with servants finishing last minute preparations for Roman's arrival. Virgil watched as the gardeners checked and triple checked the flower beds by the gates to make sure they were weeded properly. 

Virgil knew from growing up in Sanders that this was a big deal. Picais hadn't hosted a royal visitor in many years, staying quiet and keeping out others to protect what remained of the royal family as the castle waited for Remy to become of age to ascend to the throne. Any royal visit was important, and the first one in at least twelve years? Undoubtedly important and nerve-racking for servants.

“Pardon me, Prince Virgilius,” a gardener gave him a small bow after nearly running into him. 

“It’s no problem,” he said softly. “The flowers look wonderful.”

“Thank you, my prince!”

Virgil smiled, “You’re welcome.”

The gardener hurried off to put away his tools, and Virgil turned his attention back to the gates. He stood with Logan as Remy paced in front of them, pulling at his sleeves and fixing his attire.

“It’s just Roman,” Virgil reminded him.

“One would think  _ you’d  _ be the nervous one and not me. Oh, to be in sweet sweet denial of one’s feelings,” Remy mused, pausing his pace to look at his younger brother. He stepped forward and adjusted the crown on Virgil’s head, offering in explanation, “It was crooked.”

Virgil laughed quietly and reached up to fix Remy’s crown and hair, “So was yours, Remy. Even so, I don’t believe it’ll matter if my crown is crooked or not. Not once my dad gets the chance to swing me around.”

Remy smirked at that, “No long distance lover embracing you in his arms and dipping you down for a first kiss?”

Virgil blushed and swatted his brother away. Remy laughed and backed off. Virgil was relieved he could momentarily help with the nerves that Remy was feeling. His brother had been on edge all morning.

Remy didn’t know that Virgil  _ did  _ feel nearly as nervous as him, even with the jesting. It was true that in moments he would see Roman and Dad again. Specifically, he would see Roman.  _ Roman _ . His best friend. His… crush. And he’d have to address how he was feeling, one way or another.

“Remington, I can see the carriage approaching,” Logan told him quietly.

Remy looked off and spotted the carriage in the distance, accompanied by a group of guards on horses. Remy stood beside Virgil and straightened out his posture.

“Ready?” Remy asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” Virgil told him.

Remy snorted, “Well, just let me know if you’re going to hide under the covers until that sunshine boy goes away.”

The castle gates opened, and the carriage entered the walls, slowing down as it approached the trio before coming to a stop. The coachman descended from the front and opened the carriage doors for the passengers inside. 

Roman stepped down from the carriage. Virgil watched how his friend moved, looking for a sign that Roman had lied about his recovery, just in case. He trusted Roman would not but did not wish to take chances with the health of his friend.

The other prince was thinner than he had been when Virgil left for Picais, but that could easily be written off as the price of bedrest and loss of muscles. His auburn hair was shorter too, and Virgil knew he had it freshly cut before his journey. His complexion was paler but not so pale as to hint at a lack of bouts outdoors.

Virgil smiled at the conclusion that Roman had, in fact, recovered from his injuries in their time apart.

“Virgil!” Roman exclaimed, bouncing over to greet the royals. “Hello, King Remington!”

“Hello, Prince Roman,” Remy offered.

The two exchanged a small bit of talk about Roman’s journey that Virgil didn’t pay attention to. He watched as Dad stepped down from the carriage, a bit stiff from the journey. Virgil stepped aside to go to his dad and help him over.

As he walked over, he met eyes with Dad, and Dad’s eyes lit up like polished emeralds.

“Virgil,” he smiled. “Don’t mind me, son, just my old bones sore from the journey.”

Virgil hugged his dad when he was before him, burying his face in Dad’s shoulder. Dad hugged him back tightly, placing a kiss on Virgil’s temple.

“I missed you too,” Dad said quietly.

Virgil nodded his head without looking up, “I’m sorry I didn’t write to you enough.”

“It’s okay, I bet you’ve been pretty busy settling in over here.”

Virgil looked up at his dad and smiled, “Just a bit. Come on, Remy has a feast planned tonight to welcome the two of you as our guests.”

-

As the nobles started to arrive for the feast, Roman, seated at the table with the others, leaned over to talk to Virgil, “We didn’t really get the chance to talk earlier, but it’s good to see you. The crown suits you.”

Virgil smiled, “It’s nice being able to talk to you again, sans the weeks of wait. And thank you, it was my dad’s, King Emile’s.”

Roman nodded in agreement, “It’s much better to hear your words in person, I certainly can agree.”

Virgil heard Remy quietly snort on his other side and gently kicked his brother’s leg under the table. Virgil talked with Roman throughout the dinner, catching each other up on what had not fit into their letters over the passing weeks. 

“I could show you the library later, to get away from  _ that _ ,” Virgil pointed to Logan and Dad who were seated on the other side of Remy.

Roman gasped then laughed and looked at the two older men talking while they ate dinner. He didn’t notice anything all that strange, “What, can’t handle your dad swapping baby Virgil stories with Logan?”

“No, no, that’s definitely flirting,” Virgil shivered.

Roman shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Well, what would you do if King Thomas was flirting?”

Roman stared at Virgil, mortified, “No.”

Virgil chuckled at his friend’s horror and ate some of the stew remaining in his bowl. He was glad he could get Roman to understand what he was feeling. And knew that when the dining halls cleared out for the ballroom, the two would be going off to the library to hide for the night.

Before too long, Virgil was waving goodbye to his brother. He knew they weren’t supposed to be sneaking off away from Logan, but he truly believed that he and Roman could handle the situation if danger arose.

Perhaps he was allowing himself to relax too much. He knew there was a chance of that, however he wanted the opportunity to be alone with Roman for just a few minutes before Logan realized and came looking for them.

Virgil tugged Roman down the hall, being cautious enough to observe their surroundings, just in case. It was quiet, but he didn’t think it was suspiciously quiet. Everyone was at the banquet, welcoming the royal guests and celebrating the arrival, after all. Guards roamed the halls, giving them quick nods before leaving to do their rounds. Nothing seemed odd by the time they reached the library. Virgil opened the door and quietly slipped inside. 

“It’s cold in here,” Roman said quietly.

Virgil frowned, noting the chill as well. He shivered slightly, hugging himself and rubbing his arms up and down for warmth. The library had never been this cold at night when he visited. Tonight, he could see his breath when he breathed out. Virgil could hear a quiet voice in the distance and pulled Roman to hide behind the desk near the entrance.

Mavis walked out from the library’s shelves, shawl hanging loosely around her. She wandered closer,  _ closer _ , dress dancing freely around her, reveling in the cold with a flow that suggested familiarity.

“Mistress, we will soon have our vengeance on those who’ve wronged you. The King who felled you is not here, but his son, the wretched knight, is. He can be gone by morning.”

Virgil’s eyes widened in disbelief, voice caught in his throat.  _ Mavis  _ was the spy within the castle walls? Mavis? The kind old librarian that let him stay in the library whenever he needed a break? He wouldn’t believe it was true if he hadn’t heard her talking just now. He gripped Roman’s wrist, heart starting to race, to make sure he knew where the prince was, so that Roman did not go charging to be the hero.

“We need to get out of here.” Roman’s voice startled him, and Virgil’s grip tightened, almost knuckle-white and cutting off Roman’s circulation. “Get Logan and the guards,” Roman told him quietly, voice grim.

Virgil nodded stiffly in agreement, shoulders tense. They couldn’t move until the librarian moved again, two pairs of eyes watching raptly. 

Mavis continued walking towards the desk, moving slowly in her old age. “I just need to get my poisons, Mistress. Just the same as the ones that handled the traitor Ashdown. You’ll see.”

Virgil looked around and saw the vial sitting on the top of the desk. He took a deep breath, making a rash decision, and shot out of hiding to confront her, knowing that she would discover them either way.

“You will do no such thing, Mavis.”

Mavis spun around, anger evident on her face at being interrupted. Then the old woman’s expression turned wicked. She sneered at the prince and raised her hands, room chilling further. Virgil shuddered at the temperature, hugging himself again and then noticed with alarm the frost growing on his garments. 

Mavis focused on him and breathed out, a swarm of snow starting within the library. “I can’t have you ruining this for me, dear. You had your chance to join the Mistress.”

Without warning, she summoned large icicles in the air and sent them flying at Virgil. Virgil threw up his arms to deflect them, sending them flying around the library. Each icicle crashed and shattered when they collided with the library’s stone walls.

Mavis cackled, summoning more of the icicles. Her arms raised, a malicious grin on her face, icicle after icicle launched at Virgil. His heart was a horse racing towards the finish line, the magical exhaustion threatening him. He gritted his teeth, pushing himself to try and throw back the icicles at Mavis.

“Roman, run!” Virgil shouted when one distracted her.

Roman rolled out from his position, dodging his own icicle attack, and ran to the library doors. He had to do something,  _ needed  _ to do something, to not just escape like a coward, to let Virgil fight Mavis by himself, to warn the rest of the castle. 

Mavis switched her aim to Roman, a wicked gleam in her eyes at the new target painted, but Virgil shot forward. He launched his body at her, pushed her to break her focus on Roman and back to him instead, giving Roman the chance to escape out the room. 

“You aren’t going to hurt him!”

The annoyance flickered on her face at losing her prey before settling into a vengeful sneer. “Then I suppose I will settle for you, boy!”

Mavis latched onto Virgil, and her touch  _ burned _ . 

He shouted in pain and looked down at his wrists, seeing them turn blue with cold as ice spread up his arms. He kicked at her, feet swinging in her hold, but her grip remained ironclad. The cold crept up his arms, forming an icy prison around his hands. Fear screamed in his head, only barely being beaten back by the pain in his hands.

“Virgil!” Roman shouted, running back into the room with a sword in his hands.

Roman ran, swinging his sword at Mavis, and she rolled her eyes. She let go of one of Virgil’s wrists, swatting at Roman like a fly. He was knocked back, hitting a bookcase with a grunt. Another hand wave and the ground cracked open, and a large wall of ice sprouted up, a blockade of winter between the two princes.

Virgil tried to move his freed arm desperately, to free it from its wintery grip, but it remained encased in ice. Mavis grabbed the free wrist again and hauled him away, further into the library. Virgil screamed as his hands numbed, pulling and struggling, wanting to get  _ away _ .

Roman swung the sword at the ice barricade, again and again, hacking at it in an attempt to get through to help Virgil. He was barely chipping at it, dread filling him as he saw Virgil being dragged further and further away.

Virgil looked back at him and then around the library desperately, looking for a way to get out of his situation. Panic laced up his whole body as Mavis tugged at him. He stomped down on the floor, dragging his feet and trying to resist the old woman’s pull.

He saw something flicker, and his memory ran back to his baba’s notes. Shadows. Something about shadows. He remembered reading about his ability to manipulate them, but even in the journals, the skill was underdeveloped. But he still had to try, unable to use his hands for any magic.

He focused on Mavis’ shadow as she pulled him along, trying to imagine it letting  _ his  _ shadow go. Her shadow twitched, and he felt Mavis’ grip loosen slightly. A thrill shot through his spine, letting the success motivate him. He focused harder and imagined the scenario in more detail. The shadow’s hands falling away from his shadow, his shadow no longer being pulled along with frozen hands.

He focused and focused and  _ focused  _ until he realized he was no longer moving, that Mavis’ shadow had let go. He looked up to see Mavis’ rage, face gaunt and wholly vexed, stopped in one position because of her shadow. And his hands were freed, relief returning as he turned around to run. He ran back to the ice wall as Roman finally broke a hole through it.

“Virgil, come on!” Roman reached through for him. 

Virgil tried to raise his arms, heavy like they were turned to lead and all he could feel was  _ coldcoldcold.  _ His arms swung uselessly at his side, and he didn’t know whether to scream or cry in frustration. 

Roman, realizing Virgil’s dilemma, grabbed one of Virgil’s icy hands and heaved him through the hole in the ice wall, barely able to pull him out. With a sword in one hand and Virgil’s in the other, Roman took off running out of the library, Mavis howling behind them.

Roman ran them back to the ballroom, bursting into the room and not stopping until they were before Logan. The crowds of nobles stopped in shock, at the sight of their injured prince and Roman wielding a sword.

“It was Mavis,” Roman panted, overexerted. He handed over the still shivering Virgil into Remy’s shocked arms. Logan straightened, listening intently. “She was the one working for the Witch. I’m going back, but Virgil needs his hands thawed out.  _ Heal him. _ ”

“Roma-”

A glacier of ice burst through the doors, and the guards scrambled to stand before it, fortifying their ranks around the nobility. On top of the glacier stood Mavis, a wicked snow queen bulldozing through the room. Roman darted forward and started to scale the glacier, one handed, as Mavis rained ice upon him to knock him off. The pieces of ice nicked his skin, drawing blood and getting into his eyes. weariness wanted to settle into his bones but he pushed himself further, harder, dodging most of the attacks, until he was at the top.

He held his sword with both hands, feet spread shoulder wide for balance. Rivulets of blood from the ice dripped down his face. His heart pounded in his chest, a rabbit wanting to escape. A snarl was on his lips as he gauged the old woman in front of her, waiting to make a move.

Mavis held out her hand, a blue aura surrounding it, and a sword made of ice materialized out of the air. She ran at the prince, sword ready to strike him. He expertly dodged her attack and swung his own sword at her, his sword stayed by Mavis’s own. 

Their swords clashed again and again. There was something wild in Mavis’ eyes, a glint of angered frustration. She roared, charging with a reckless swing, hand loose on her sword. Spotting the opening, Roman knocked her sword out of her hand, kicking her chest, hearing something crack, and knocking her down. He kicked her sword away, it dissolving as Mavis hunched in on herself.

Mavis crawled back, strength diminishing as wisps of blue flickered, trying to form something but unable. There was no escape, and Roman had the faux witch backed against the edge of the glacier, the tip of his sword under her chin. He smirked, ready to deliver the final blow.

“You’d kill an old woman?” Mavis said, blood stained on her teeth, a last ditch attempt.

Roman raised a brow, sneering, “We both know you’re much more than that.”

He raised his sword and struck her in the chest. When he pulled his sword back, she fell lifelessly over the edge of the glacier. The glacier shook and began to crumble, large chunks falling off and crashing onto the ballroom floor. The nobles screamed, either in fear for themselves or for Roman. Roman hurried and clambered down as fast as he could to avoid falling from such a height.

He raced back to Virgil, eager to get back to his side. Virgil’s hands were being wrapped in cloth now that the ice had melted away, the blue tint making Roman want to wince in shared pain and commiseration. The other prince gently pushed his brother away before he launched himself at Roman. Roman caught Virgil in his arms, laughing and hiding a groan of pain.

“What’s this about?” Roman asked when he released Virgil.

Virgil rolled his eyes, cupping Roman’s cheek with a fond smile, “I was trying to  _ kiss  _ you, you idiot hero.”

“Well then, let me help you with that,” Roman smirked before he leaned down and pressed his lips to Virgil’s, relief radiating off of both of them as they melted into each other’s embrace. The feeling of the cold gone and replaced by the warmth of each other.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Virgil sat down next to Roman in the courtyard of the castle, a blanket spread out wide beneath them. He rolled his wrist around to test the mobility, and made a pleased hum to find it moving as if nothing had happened. Beside him, Roman started to unpack the small basket Patton had shooed them off with around the start of lunch.

Roman paused, looking over at Virgil. “Does it hurt?” He asked, eyeing Virgil’s wrist.

“No,” Virgil replied, sending Roman a small, reassuring smile. “I was just checking… I didn’t like not being able to use my arms. I need to learn how to focus my magic another way.”

Roman pressed his lips together in thought, “We could look through the library for books on magic. There might be some there, it looked extensive.”

Virgil nodded thoughtfully, mulling the idea over in his head. It was a good idea. He would need another source to look at when he had learned all he could from his Baba’s journal. There would only be so much information in the journal about magic in general, but it helped that the information in it was tailored to Virgil’s abilities.

The shadows had come in handy when the two of them confronted Mavis last night. Virgil would need a lot more practice before he was fully confident with it, but it was better than nothing. 

“Are you suggesting we sneak off there again?”

Roman smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes, “Only if the meeting with your brother proves truly dreadful, Virgil. However, I would be willing to meet you there anytime you want me to.”

Virgil smiled at the idea. He liked being able to see Roman again, and he liked the idea of being able to steal a kiss or two in the privacy of the library. He knew there was a certain expectation of them, as they were princes of newly allied countries that were entering trade agreements, but he wanted part of their courting to be theirs. Private.

Virgil was not going to push himself to follow through with any expectations. He had not forgotten the trail of broken hearts Roman had left in their youth, but he also remembered the discussion the two had about it.

If he had believed Roman was merely toying with him, he never would have entertained the idea of agreeing to court with him. He had made that stance clear long before he knew he was a prince and upheld the idea now.

“What do you want to start with? The sandwiches or the dessert?” Roman asked, setting down their plates. He winked at Virgil, “I’m thinking the dessert.”

“Tarts sound like a good start,” Virgil agreed, rolling his eyes. “Even if it weren’t, who’s to know other than us?”

Roman smiled and dished out the tarts. Virgil leaned against him as they ate their lunches. Roman hesitantly reached out and wrapped his arm around Virgl’s shoulders as they ate, lingering lightly for a moment before settling down.

“Is this okay?” Roman asked quietly, voice almost inaudible with nerves.

“It is…. You know, for someone who’s courted many young nobles, you aren’t very bold,” Virgil teased him.

Roman blushed when Virgil looked up to see his reaction, stammering. “Well- I- you’re different?”

“I know,” Virgil said softly, patting his chest with a fond look. “I’m just teasing you, Roman. I trust you.”

Roman sighed in relief, “Thank you.”

Roman took a bite of his tart, humming in pleasure at the taste, and Virgil picked his own up to resume eating his own. 

The afternoon was quiet, much more peaceful than the last few weeks. There was no need to look over shoulders for lurking danger, no scrambling for clues. Virgil liked the change. He had barely realized how stressful the situation was while he was in it, focused on solving it before someone he cared about was hurt. 

“Hey, look,” Roman pointed to a rose bush planted by the castle walls. “That’s you.”

Virgil looked over and saw a butterfly hovering around the blooming roses. He snorted, leveling Roman with a look and shaking his head, a smile threatening to break across his lips. It wasn’t a half bad comparison. The caterpillar, something mundane and small, metamorphosing into something entirely different and new, something free. Roman, Virgil was sure, would talk about how the butterfly’s beauty compared to Virgil’s own if Roman were courting another noble. The butterfly flew around a few more moments before flying across the courtyard and out of sight.

Roman grinned at Virgil’s response, laughter dancing in his eyes. In a bold move, Roman pulled Virgil closer into his chest, the both of them marveling and reveling in the shared closeness and each other’s presence.

Virgil shifted to get comfortable, squirming in Roman’s hold and accidentally jabbing him in the ribs. Roman hissed in pain, and Virgil startled back, eyes wide in fear. “Are you okay?!” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Roman said in reassurance, and Virgil gave him a half panicked, half disbelieving look that Roman laughed at the familiarity. “I’m serious, Vee. I’m fine. Just a bit sore, that’s all.”

The skepticism rang loudly on Virgil’s face, the doubt fading away when Roman gave him a chaste kiss. “Okay,” Virgil said slowly, settling gingerly back in Roman’s hold when the other prince tugged at him. “But if you feel-”

“If I feel any pain or anything else, I’ll go straight to the healers and be regulated to bedrest where you’ll scold me for letting it get so bad and not letting myself heal like an idiot. I know, I know.”

Virgil huffed but hid a smile, letting Roman enfold him into a loving embrace, sitting in between Roman’s legs, his back to Roman’s chest. Roman kissed the top of Virgil’s head, feeling Virgil relax minutely then all at once when it seemed like Roman was serious about not being in pain.

“This is nice,” Virgil commented quietly, not wanting to break the silence but also feeling the need to say something.

Roman hummed, resting his head against Virgil’s, “I agree. You know, I have never felt like this before, with anyone else I’ve courted. That sounds fake, but I mean it. Around you, I can’t put up the persona and flirt around while you’re starstruck. And even if I could, I don’t think I would want to anymore.”

Virgil turned in Roman’s hold and smiled up at him, reaching up to cup Roman’s face in the palm of his hand, “I know. You changed. I wouldn’t be here if I thought you were toying with me. You said earlier that I was different, but I think you are too.”

Roman flushed and turned his face into Virgil’s hand. He pressed a small kiss into his palm, and Virgil’s heart fluttered at the gesture, and smiled softly at Virgil. “Thank you, Virgil.”

The lunch date continued quietly, until it was time for the two to go back inside. Roman packed up the basket again as Virgil folded up the blanket they had sat on to keep grass stains off of their nicer garments. Virgil dropped the blanket heavily on top of the basket in Roman’s arms, and Roman caught it with a small ‘oof’ and a roll of his eyes as he adjusted it so it would not fall when he walked away.

“I need to talk to Remy, but I’ll see you at dinner, okay?”

“I’ll see you there.”

Virgil offered Roman one last smile before turning and walking towards the castle. He made his way through the castle, proud that he no longer needed to use specific paintings or sculptures to tell him what part of the castle he was in. He found his brother’s study with ease and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Remy called from within.

Virgil opened the door and stepped inside before closing the door behind him.

“Hey, Remy,” he greeted.

Remy looked up from his papers and smirked, “Here I thought you would still be making puppy eyes at your prince.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. He knew Remy was trying to tease, but he could see the worry in Remy’s eyes. When Virgil didn’t say anything in reply, his brother shifted uncomfortably in his seat and put down his quill.

Concern grew in Virgil, frowning, “What’s wrong?” Virgil asked him.

Remy shook his head, “Nothing. Nothing.”

“Sure, Rem. I know it’s only a few months, but I can tell when you’re upset.”

“It’s not a big deal, Vee.”

Frown deeping, “If it’s big enough to hide, it is.” Virgil crossed the room and brought over a chair from the other desk. He sat down near Remy’s desk and looked at his brother seriously. “If it’s hurting you, we can talk it out.”

Remy squirmed in his chair, but Virgil waited patiently. He would give Remy the time he needed to be ready to talk. He wasn’t going to push his brother if it was something that had him visibly upset. He didn’t want to disrespect Remy’s boundaries but wouldn’t ignore his hurt either.

“This is… childish of me, Virgil. But I’m afraid that I’m going to lose you again,” Remy said. “I’ve just got you back, and Mavis already tried to take you from me last night.”

Remy wiped his eyes with his sleeve and took a shaky breath. He looked at Virgil, frowning with tears slipping freely from his eyes.

“I’m not ready to lose you again. I- I can’t. Vee, I love you too much to lose you again.”

Virgil frowned, brow creasing with worry, “You won’t. You’re stuck with me now, got it? No matter what happens with Roman. Even if a few years from now I decide to marry him and go to Sandres. We’ll write, we’ll visit, whatever we have to do.” 

“You say that now, but what if you change your mind?”

“Then I would be wrong to do so. I don’t want to lose you either, you’re my brother.”

Virgil stood from his chair and circled Remy’s desk. He leaned down and hugged his brother tightly. Remy reached up and hugged him back, clinging to Virgil’s arms and sniffling.

“I’m not going to disappear again, Remy. I won’t leave you, I promise.”

Remy let out a small cry and held Virgil’s arms tighter. Virgil held on tight and let his brother cry, quietly assuring him.

There was a knock at the door and Logan opened it a moment later. He paused when he saw the scene in the room, he started to back away.

“You can stay,” Remy looked up at Logan, arms still wrapped tight around Virgil. “I’m fine.”

“A package came for Virgil. From the welder in our western lands.”

Virgil smiled and gently started to let go of Remy. Remy tensed, fingers spasming, and held on a bit tighter.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’ll want to see what it is. I’d nearly forgotten I requested these.”

Logan brought the package over and set it on Remy’s desk. Remy loosened his hold and Virgil opened the package with care, revealing a pair of glasses with dark lenses in them.

“I noticed how much you squint when we go outside,” Virgil said, picking up the glasses. “So I had a pair of glasses made for you with some smokey quartz.”

Remy reached up and took the pair gently, “Thank you, Virgil…”

“You’re welcome, Remy.”

Remy smiled at him and put them on, “These work great, Virgil. Where did you get the idea?”

“Some of the traders who visited Sandres had them, and I thought it would help you,” Virgil told him.

"We’ll have to test them out after dinner, maybe?”

“It may be a bit dark for that, but we can go for a walk if you want,” Virgil said. 

Remy looked down at the glasses, fiddling with them in his hands, thinking for a moment. He set them down on the desk and looked back at Virgil.

“You don’t have plans with Roman?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t,” Virgil promised. “If he asks, I’ll tell him I’m taking a walk with you after.”

“You don’t-”

“But I want to,” Virgil interrupted. “I am not going to ditch you, just because I like a boy. You’re stuck with me.”

Remy said with a watery smile,“I guess I am.”


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Virgil sat at the table in the castle’s kitchen with his dad. A few servants lingered, working on different tasks but giving the father and son space as they talked. Virgil appreciated the gesture, despite how he invaded the kitchens to spend some time with his dad. He missed being able to walk around generally unnoticed by others. In Sandres, he had just been the chef’s boy, but here, he was the prince who’d finally found his way home.

The allotted space did not stop him from being looked at. Occasionally, a curious maid would eye the prince, surprised to see him in the kitchen and even more surprised to see the flour on his shirt.

He had grown a bit more used to being watched over the past few months, but sometimes it would still bother him. Today was one of those times. He took a bite of his warm scone to distract himself from the watching eyes.

Patton laughed and reached out to wipe crumbs off of Virgil’s chin, “I see princedom has turned you into a messy eater?”

Virgil set the scone on the plate in front of him and wiped his chin off before wiping his hands on his shirt, hoping that he could get the flour off.

“Dad, I think you’re forgetting years of me making a mess in your kitchens with Roman,” Virgil teased, “with our quests to collect midnight snacks.”

“How could I forget? The two of you ate a week’s worth of bread in one night. A feat I still cannot believe two eleven-year-olds could pull off alone,” Patton ripped a small part of his scone and popped it in his mouth. 

Virgil laughed at that, thinking back to the stomach ache he had the next morning. It was before he was Roman’s servant. They were just friends back then, still young and more mischievous than responsible. Dad had pitied him and given him ginger for his nausea, he never heard if Roman had gotten into trouble or not.

Virgil shrugged, “In my defense, Roman dared me to do so. And I was too stubborn to say no.”

“Yes, how could I forget you two were thick as thieves back then. I’m glad you’re close again,” Dad smiled.

Virgil looked over his dad’s face. The smile on Dad’s face looked genuine, his eyes softening and the wrinkles around his eyes gently creasing. Virgil felt relief. Dad actually thought this courting was a good idea, or at the least was happy for Virgil. Virgil thought courting Roman was good, but seeing his dad’s reaction was reassuring.

He was growing a little old to need his dad’s reassurance, especially considering his dad lived a kingdom away. It did not change that Virgil valued what his dad had to say, but he knew one day he would need to make important life decisions without seeking that reassurance. Be it with Roman at his side or alone.

“I am too.”

“How did the two of you like the lunch I made?”

Virgil smiled at his dad, “It was wonderful. It was nice to have your cooking again, Dad. It made me a little homesick to eat some of the dishes here and have them not taste the same.”

“I missed you too, Virgil, but don’t let that stop you from enjoying things here, okay?”

Patton reached out and patted his hand, hesitantly. Virgil knew he was worried, even if his arms appeared to be alright again. The feeling of ice encasing his arms was not pleasant and he frowned at the phantom feeling of ice crawling its way up his arms, immobilizing them.

“I’m trying, Dad. Sometimes it just happens without me realizing it,” Virgil moved his hand to hold his Dad’s, reminding himself that he could still move them.

Virgil knew he would get used to the changes eventually. A lot of it was still strange to him, but he was adjusting bit by bit. He learned the layout of the castle. The different halls and staircases had felt familiar but distant at first, but now he could find his way around and roam nearly everywhere within its walls without getting lost. He’d grown close to his brother and learned about their family.

He did miss how simple things were before Remy arrived in Sandres with Logan, but he would rather it have happened than have spent the rest of his life the way he was before.

“I know, kiddo. It will get easier and this isn’t a goodbye. I wouldn’t be a very good Dad if I decided to go back and ditch my son.”

“Oh, I don’t think you could stay away, even if I weren’t here.”

Patton gave his son a confused look and the prince snorted quietly.

“Dad, I have eyes,” he said.

Patton covered his eyes with his hands, embarrassed as he began to blush, “I didn’t think that you noticed. I’m sorry.”

Virgil shrugged, “That is part of why Roman and I snuck off to the library at the feast, but it isn’t that bad. If it makes you happy.” 

“I think it could,” Patton said quietly, voice unsure. “And even so… If things go the right way, I would need to move here… And if your courtship with Roman goes well, you’d go back to Sandres. I’d lose you both.”

Virgil smiled sadly, “Remember what you just said about how this isn’t goodbye, Dad? Even if both of those things happen you’re still my dad, but I am grown. You don’t need to give up a chance like that for me, I’m okay.”

His dad sniffled and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his eyes. Virgil reached out and patted his dad on the arm. Dad pulled him into a hug and held him close, burying his face in Virgil’s neck. Virgil shivered at the feeling of cold of tears landing on his neck. He wrapped his arms around Dad and held him close.

“You aren’t going to lose us, Dad. So, if you want this, go for it. Don’t let me hold you back,” Virgil murmured. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Virgil,” his dad whispered.

* * *

Roman watched King Remington fold the trade papers and put them in an envelope. Their talk about the trade had gone well. Every point King Remington had brought up sounded correct and did match what Father had written down as notes for Roman to refer to during the agreements. The only thing Roman noticed to be wrong was how tense King Remington was during the talks. Roman had a feeling it was not over salt prices though.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?” Roman asked the king.

King Remington looked at him, eyes hidden behind dark tinted glasses Roman had never seen him wear before. He wondered how the king could see inside with them on.

“There is, though it is not about the matters of our trade agreement,” the king said. “It is something much more dear to my heart than the sale of our goods.”

Roman shifted in his chair and accepted the envelope as the king handed it to him.

“Virgil?” he guessed.

King Remington nodded, “My brother, yes.”

Roman put the envelope into the bag on the floor next to his chair, noting which part he put it in. He resisted the urge to hiss in pain at the strain on his back as he bent down. He sat up straight in his chair, ready to talk to the king.

“Have I broken any rule in regards to courting in Picais?” Roman asked.

The king sat back in his chair and lifted the tinted glasses up so they rested on the top of his head, revealing sharp blue eyes focused directly on Roman. King Remington narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

“None at all. From what I’ve seen, the two of you are very fond of each other. So, I’ll warn you now. Do  _ not _ mess with my brother’s heart,” King Remington spoke menacingly. “For if you do, there will be consequences your father cannot protect you from.”

Roman resisted the urge to squirm under the gaze of the king. He had no intentions of ever meeting those consequences or of taking the actions that would lead to them. However, he understood that the king did not want his brother harmed, especially when such a short time had passed since Virgil was returned to him.

“I understand, King Remington. I have no intentions of harming your brother, I can give you my word on that,” he said. “Virgil has already talked to me about such actions with past courtings and we have acknowledged together that I will not do that.”

The king sighed in relief. Roman watched him for a sign of what he was thinking. He hoped Virgil’s brother trusted him enough not to try to force them to separate. It wasn’t fair to Virgil if the king acted out of fear of Roman’s past actions. 

“Thank you for being honest with me and admitting that you have done wrong before. It makes it easier to trust you when you’re not trying to make yourself look perfect for me,” King Remington told him earnestly.

Roman nodded. He didn’t want to lie and have something come out later and taken the wrong way. He had changed since the king had met him and wanted to prove it. Though, Roman was sure the king would have disliked this courting for how he acted the day King Remington arrived in Sandres.

It was childish of him. And he was ashamed to have just accused King Remington of disrespecting his father. 

“With respect, King Remington, I don’t believe Virgil needs protecting,” he said, mindful of his wording. “I have known Virgil a long time, and he will make his thoughts known, especially if he believes he’s being toyed with. And if I were to ever physically hurt him? He would defend himself, though I never would.”

The king smirked at that, “He’d toss your princey butt right out of the way. Would barely lift a finger.”

Roman knew that Virgil would. His levitation skills were improving from when he was in Sandres, and even then, Virgil had told him how he had accidentally thrown Logan across the room.

“So we have an agreement?” he asked.

King Remington nodded, “I believe so. I trust you with my brother, as long as he wants you to have him.”

“Of course.”


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Six months later

Roman looked over at Virgil, who was curled up in a plush chair in the library. Virgil’s face was buried in a book about shadow magic and Roman could just barely see his chestnut eyes scanning the pages as he went. Roman smiled at the sight and rested his chin on his palm, sighing softly as he watched. 

He loved Virgil. It couldn’t be denied if he tried. 

Roman wanted to scream it for the whole world to hear. That Prince Roman of Sandres fell in love with this man, this wonderful, wonderful man, and that he was loved  _ back _ . He wanted to show Virgil off, show the world how happy he was, how much Virgil meant to him. How he would do anything for Virgil.

Roman had a book in his lap that he had meant to read as Virgil studied. He understood that Virgil wanted to spend time with him on this visit but did not feel comfortable skipping his studies. His magic was important to him, and Roman didn’t mind quietly existing in the same space as Virgil. It was a sort of blissful peace that could only be achieved by Virgil, and Roman could only barely stop himself from reaching out and cupping Virgil’s face to bring into a soft kiss.

After the trade agreement was settled, the two hadn’t had a lot of time together before Roman returned home to Sandres. He was happy to be back in Picais to see Virgil again. Virgil had visited him once in that time, but only for a short week. It had been the most wonderful and heart-aching week Roman had ever been through. Having Virgil so near and yet so far all at the same time. He was glad that they were here now with no interruptions. 

Virgil’s brow furrowed, and he tucked a lock of dark brown hair behind his ear, never taking his eyes off of what he was reading. Roman watched Virgil concentrate, mind soaking up all the words, an adorable look of focus on his face. Roman felt a besotted grin stretch across his face. By the gods, he loved this man.

“I love you,” Roman breathed out quietly, half a confession and half a vow.

“I love you too,” Virgil smiled, looking up from his book. He suddenly frowned, eyes downcast and self-conscious. Roman wanted to vault himself toward Virgil to wipe that look off his face. “Is this boring you? We could do something else.”

“No, Virgil, I quite like sitting here with you,” Roman replied, hands twitching and the urge to placate and soothe strong.

Virgil eyed the closed book in Roman’s lap and gave him a fond, exasperated look, “You haven’t touched your book.”

“If you believe me, I would happily tell you what subject of study has caught my eye,” Roman said with a smooth smile.

Virgil snorted at that, rolling his eyes. “Dork.”

“Maybe so, but I’m yours,” Roman teased.

Virgil smiled and they settled back into their activities, even if the only one actually doing anything was Virgil. Roman watched him quietly, considering what had changed over the past year. It felt like such a short time, but also felt like a lifetime with all that had happened. Virgil’s life was so different, being thrusted into the role of a prince and finding his family when he was just a servant before. Coming home to Picais as a prince. It made Roman’s year seem much less dramatic.

Virgil had gone through so much. Had fought and struggled to fit into this new royal world that he had to go through. Doubly so with the magic. And yet he persevered, persisted and won and lived. Virgil could have any pick, and suitors would fall at his feet to impress him.

Yet Roman was the one Virgil had chosen to share the experience with.  _ Roman  _ was the one that Virgil had given his kiss to.  _ Roman  _ was the one that had Virgil’s love.  _ Roman _ was the one that could feel himself falling madder and madder in love with, and he could feel Virgil’s love radiating back to Roman.

Roman’s heart felt like it would burst out of his chest, swelling with so much love. 

Virgil turned the page in his book with care, mindful of the old pages. Roman admired that Virgil worked so hard to learn his magic, to harness the power he was given. That he would take the time to apply himself with his new powers. Never once had he seen a trace of wickedness in Virgil’s use of magic, unlike his experiences with the Dragon Witch and more recently, Mavis. If anything, Virgil was  _ too _ careful with his magic, mindful of the power he had and what he could do.

Virgil shifted in his seat and moved the book so that Roman could see the way Virgil bit his lip as he concentrated on the text before him. Roman felt something soft sing in his chest.

“By the stars, I want to marry you,” he spoke softly.

Without looking up, Virgil quipped, “Where’s my ring?”

“I can send for one,” Roman said seriously. “If you wished it, you could pick it from Sandres’ treasures.”

Virgil looked up from his book, “You’re serious? Roman, I thought you were joking.”

Virgil shut the book and placed it on the small table beside his chair. He looked at Roman with an unsure expression. Roman felt his heart twinge, not liking the uncertainty on his beloved’s face.

Roman stood from his seat, placing the book that was on his lap in the seat of his chair. He crossed the small distance between them and genuflected, taking Virgil’s shaking hands into his own. He stroked Virgil’s knuckles with his thumb and offered him a loving smile.

“I mean it, Virgil. I know I want to spend my life with you.”

“You do?” Virgil asked shakily.

“I believe we normally save the “I do”s for our wedding, but I will say them whenever you need to hear them,” Roman chuckled, eyes dancing with love and mischief. “But I love you. I do, I do, I do.”

Virgil laughed, the tension breaking, and slipped his hand from Roman’s to cup Roman’s face in his hand. He admired his fiance’s face for a moment. Roman leaned into his hand, eyes meeting Virgil’s and shining with happiness. Roman’s heart felt like he was bursting with love for Virgil, a strange aching that could only be called love. He leaned forward and kissed Virgil, feeling like that it was the only way he could tell this man how much he loved him.

When they broke apart, Virgil smiled, “I do.”


End file.
